Brotherhood of Saints
by Candra 'wolfgal97
Summary: "Because that's the deal. Though they draw their strength from each other, they've become each other's greatest weakness. So the boys don't care about self-preservation? That's fine. But they need each other to exist, at this point. So, hurt one, you destroy the other. And how do you do that? You go after the baby. Big brother will break." Will be M in later chapters. Format Fixed
1. Threats and Promises

_A/N: This is my first Boondock Saints story. I just had this idea one night and I felt like it would be fun to make my first really evil bad guy and that this was the best story to do it. Questions, comments, reviews and critics are great._

_Disclaimer: Sadly, I don't own the MacManus twins. I'm just highly attracted to Irish accents. But if I could borrow them for a night, I promise I would consider giving them back._

_Warning: Rated T. Will be M in later chapters for violence, death, serious whump, ect... So, all the things you expect from Boondocks._

* * *

**Brotherhood of Saints**

**_Threats and Promises_**

**By Candra**

Lorenzo Frigida was not a happy man.

"Those Saints screwed it up again!" he hissed to the woman who sat on his desk.

She played with the hem of the very short black skirt she wore. "You knew it would happen. That was the third deal they've busted this month."

"We need to end them!" Lorenzo hissed. "They're bad for business. They're scaring away our customers. Pretty soon, no one will want to make deals with El Diablos."

The woman eyed him with wide, green eyes. "You know you can't kill them," she said.

"Why not, Anna? It'll be a permanent solution to an annoying problem. They're worth more to me dead."

Anna sighed and swung her legs around so that they brushed against her boss' thigh. "Because you can't make a martyr out of them. If you kill them, sure, the world may become a better place for you. But only for a short while."

"How do you mean?" Lorenzo asked, distracted by her close contact.

"If you kill the Saints, yes, the problem of them killing our men and costumers would be over. However, the people of this town... They love the Saints. Killing the Saints would mean that their adoring fans would be after us. We can't have that."

"So? What can a few people do? How would that effect us?"

"What can a few people do? Lorenzo, sweetie, just two men have already caused enough trouble. Picture half of Boston filling their place if they were gone."

The man finally understood. The Saints needed to be eliminated, but not killed.

"Since you have all of this figured out, what do we do? We can't kill them, but they must be stopped."

Anna smirked. "We have to make them to _want_ to stop. If the Saints just go away by their choice, then what can the people who adore them do? They'll blame the Saints for not being there. We turn the world against them."

Lorenzo eyed her skeptically. "You think you can, what? Get the Saints to retire?"

"I don't think so. I know so."

The boss scoffed. "Right."

"I can," Anna said confidently. "Once we find them, we break their will. Any man can be broken. And I know how to do it."

"And how do you plan to do that?" Lorenzo asked. Though he ran the drug business for his gang, he knew that Anna was cruel and manipulative. But she had never failed him. If there had ever been a problem in the past, she'd taken care of it. Still, they'd never had a problem like the Saints before.

"First thing is first," she sighed, rolling her shoulders in a lazy way. "We have to find out who they are."

"I can do that. I have a plan," Lorenzo told her.

"Good. We can start soon, then. Are you giving me full charge of this... project?"

"Yes, you have my upmost faith. But, my dear, what happens after we find out who they are?"

"Well, baby, that's the easiest part! We break them."

**B~D~S**

* * *

"Murph, get the hell up, lazy bones," Connor barked while kicking his twin brother's mattress.

Murphy mumbled unintelligibly in his doze as he struggled to sit up. The darker twin rubbed sleep from his eyes and glared at his brother who was lacing up his boots. "What the hell do ya want, Connor?"

"We've got business. Smecker called. Says somethin' is goin' down tonight."

Murphy woke up a bit when he heard that. "Like what? Another drug deal?"

Connor nodded. "Yeah, sounds like. Smecker said an informant told him that there was a small one goin' down on the south side."

"What time?"

"Eleven thirty," Connor replied.

"And what time is it now?"

"Six thirty. Ya slept all day. Why?"

Murphy rolled back over in bed, pulling the covers over his head as he buried his face in the pillow. "Because I'm takin' five more minutes," he mumbled drowsily.

Connor snorted. "Oh, no, you're not." Picking up one of Murph's boots, he chucked it at his lazy brother.

Murphy yelped in surprise when it hit his back. "What the hell, Con? Can't ya see I'm gettin' my beauty sleep?"

Connor rolled his eyes. "No amount of sleep could fix that," he said, gesturing to his brother who was still curled up in bed.

Murphy sighed, sat up and stretched. He could feel his joints pop as his muscles loosened. It was when he caught his brother staring at him that he stopped. "What?"

"Nothin', I guess," Connor shrugged. "It's just, you've been talkin' in your sleep an awful lot. And when ya finally get up for the day, ya seem tired."

Murphy frowned. What could he say? He couldn't tell his twin that he'd been having nightmares. Ever since Rocco had died, his dreams had turned to nightmares. When his eyes closed at night, he relived that horrible day. Rocco fell back, chest bleeding. Connor screamed while Murphy had thrashed against the cuffs binding him as he struggled to his friend's side.

Except that it wasn't always Rocco who died every night. No, sometimes, to Murphy's great horror, it was his brother. Connor would be shot and dying and Murphy could do nothing about it. He would fight and thrash to get free, his wrists mangled by the metal holding them, but he could never save his brother.

Last night had been one of those dreams.

"It's nothin', Con. Just can't get comfortable is all," Murphy said. No, he couldn't tell his brother. It would only bother Connor that he wouldn't be able to do anything about it.

But Connor knew his brother was lying. "You _do_ know ya can talk to me about anythin', right? I mean, after we killed Papa Joe and Da went back to Ireland, you've seemed off."

When Murphy didn't answer him, he knew something was wrong. Connor got up and moved to sit across from him on the edge of his own bed. "Murph? Look at me," he commanded softly.

Murphy's blue eyes seemed so sad when they met his brother's matching pair.

"Connor, how long are we going to keep doin' this?"

"Doin' what?"

"The killin', and all o' that."

"Ya know why we do it. We have to get these people off the streets so that they can't hurt anyone ever again. That's too important to give up," Connor explained.

"Yeah, but what if..." Murphy trailed off.

"What if, what?" Connor snapped. "What are ya trying to say, Murph? Spit it out!'

"What if it's one of us who gets hurt, huh? Did you ever think of that, Connor? What if it's you?" Murphy spat back.

Connor reeled back like he'd been struck. "So _that's_ what's got ya up and bothered?"

Murphy glared at his brother's insensitivity. "I'm not jokin'! What if somethin' happens to you an'... an' I..."

"Ya what?"

"An' I end up alone."

Connor didn't know what to say. He didn't know that this is what had been bothering his brother. He hated to see Murphy suffer for any reason. Connor didn't know which had been the worst day of his life. It was either when he had to burn his brother's arm with an iron while Rocco held him down, smothering his screams of pain, or when he'd had to break Murphy's hand so they could escape from Papa Joe's, the terrible feel of his brother's bones grinding under his boot.

Both thoughts caused him to shudder.

"Nothin' is gonna happen to me or you, Murph. I promise."

"But ya can't make that promise, can ya?" Murphy shot back.

Connor shuffled uncomfortably. He didn't like talking about any of this. "I saved your skin before when the Russians came, dinnit I?"

"Yeah, and ya got hurt doin' it, too," Murphy pointed out.

Connor's eyes went to his wrists. Pale scars from where he'd torn his wrists up trying to get free to save his brother were barely there. "T'was worth it," he mumbled.

"Not to me," Murphy croaked, voice thick with emotion. Connor watched his brother. He could tell Murphy was trying not to cry. Whatever had been bothering him was really eating away at his nerves.

"Yeah, well, you're dumb," Connor shot back. "We're both alive and unless-"

"Rocco's not."

Connor stopped in his tracks. "Is _that_ what this is about?"

Murphy shook his head. "Forget it." He started to get up, but Connor's hand shot out and took his before he could.

"Murphy, stop. What's been bothering ya?"

Connor's pleading look had him spilling his guts, his deepest fears. "I keep seein' it, Con. Every night. Every night I'm there again in that basement and someone dies. An'... an' it's not always Rocco," he finished in a whisper.

Connor hated seeing his twin's distress. He moved to sit next to Murphy and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. "I'm not goin' anywhere. And neither are you, a'right? I'm not gonna let anything happen to us, Murph."

Murphy leaned into his brother. They didn't really ever hug or anything, so he was enjoying the comfort. "I'm just... I don't think I could go on without ya, Connor."

Connor smiled sadly, fighting the tears in his eyes. "Well that makes two of us, then. Let's just make sure that we don't have to, right? We came into this world together, we'll leave together, as well."

Both boys laughed as Connor shoved his brother away from him playfully. "Besides, I think I'll end up taking ya out me'self before anyone else has the chance if you get weepy on me!"

Murphy shoved back, a grin on his face. "Whatever! I could take ya any day!"

"Oh, is that right?" Connor asked before tackling Murphy to the floor. The two grappled and punched and wrestled with each other, each cursing and insulting as they did, but never really trying to hurt each other. Finally, when they wore each other out, an unspoken truce was passed between them as they untangled their limbs and laid out, panting for breath.

"Alright," Connor sighed heavily, trying to catch his breath. "Maybe you can hold your own."

"Aw, screw you."

They both laughed before picking themselves off the floor. Connor wanted to pull Murphy into a hug, but he felt that fearful thoughts were now far from his brother's mind. Trying to comfort him further would only bring thoughts like that back.

"C'mon. We need to start getting ready for tonight," Connor said.

The two spent the next few hours getting dressed, raiding the fridge for anything edible, and getting their guns prepped and ready. When that was done and they were ready to head out when dark came, they pulled on their pea-coats. They'd done away with the masks. It wasn't like anyone would live to I.D. them.

The meeting was to take place in an ally on the south side. When the Saints got there, four men were already speaking to each other in hushed tones. They were all middle-aged and rough looking. Still, the twins knew they could handle it.

"You would think these idiots would get the message to stop doing stuff like this," Connor commented quietly.

"Aye," Murphy whispered back. "But it seems to me that not many criminals are the brightest bulbs in the box."

"So if you ever decide to switch sides of the law, you'd fit with the lot o' them just fine, yeah?" Connor teased.

"Screw ya."

Connor had to suppress a laugh.

"Alright. Let's do this fast and get back on home. My show's goin' to be on by the time we get there."

"What show? _Passions_?" Murphy asked innocently. He knew very well that Connor had an addiction to Hawaii Five-O.

Connor rolled his eyes while they pulled their guns.

The twins didn't need to count to three to know when to go. Ever since they were babies, they'd always been able to do things in near synchronization. They could just feel it in their bones. It was a natural force, like gravity.

Side by side, they charged into the ally and like a ghost in the night, they swept through the shadows, overcoming their foes before they even knew who was there. Each gang member dropped to the ground, their lives ended and delivered for judgement.

Until all but the carrier was standing. He made a move to run, but the MacManus twins stopped him. They placed the man on his knees and stood behind him together, guns pressed to the back of his head.

"And Shepards we shall be, for Thee, my Lord, for Thee.

Power hath descended forth from Thy hand, so that our feet may swiftly carry out thy command.

And we shall flow a river forth to Thee, and teeming with souls shall it ever be.

In nomini patri, et fili, spiritus sancti," the Saints recited before pulling the triggers.

When the last man dropped dead, they set to work crossing them and placing the pennies on their eyes. After that, they hurriedly went through their things and took what money was there.

It was when they were back home that Murphy pointed out what had bothered him about the whole event. "Did ya notice that none of them had guns?"

Connor frowned as he pulled off his shirt and sat down on his bed. "I did. But like ya said, they probably weren't the valedictions of their high school."

"Right, but every other drug bust we've done, at least one guy had a gun. But not this time. I mean, they didn't even pull a knife or anythin'. They didn't even _have_ a knife."

Connor shrugged. "And maybe they were just stupid, Murph. You worry too much. Why don't you get some sleep? We can worry about it tomorrow, yeah?"

Murphy frowned before stripping his shirt and tossing off his boots without another word. Connor knew he'd upset him when the darker twin turned his back on him when he lied down and curled up in bed.

Connor sighed and headed to the other room. He flopped onto the couch and flipped the TV on so he could watch his show. Trying to be thoughtful, he turned the volume down as low as he could and still hear so he wouldn't disturb his brother's precious sleep. Murphy really needed all he could get.

Though McGarret was dodging bullets on the screen, Connor just couldn't pay attention. He kept thinking about why Murphy had gotten so annoyed with him. He hadn't wanted to cause an issue, but he wanted his brother to relax a little. Yes, they'd had their close calls in the past. As long as they were careful though, as long as they watched each other's backs, nothing was going to happen to them.

Connor wouldn't _let_ anything happen to them.

Connor gave up on the show and flipped the TV off. He headed to his room, shuffling in the dark to his bed. Before he got in, he walked over to the bed next him.

Murphy was sleeping soundly. Connor watched as his chest rose and fell with each peaceful breath. A warm feeling surrounded him. This was all he wanted, for his brother to sleep in peace for at least one night.

Smiling to himself, he got into bed and pulled the covers over his head. He allowed his breath to warm the enclosed space, lulling him into a doze...

It was not ten minutes later that Connor was pulled from his sleepy state by whimpering sounds. He flipped to his side and spotted Murphy fidgeting in his sleep, his body trembling.

Connor got up and crouched by his brother's side, listening closely to him talk in hushed tones in his sleep.

"No, please," Murphy begged in his sleep, his voice broken. "Not him. Not my brother. Please, no! Take me, instead..."

Connor didn't like the sound of that. Murphy was in no way a weak person. Something in his dreams had him begging and on the verge of crying.

He knew he had to fix it. Gently as he could, he laid down behind his brother, pulling him close. One hand ran his fingers through Murphy's hair. Instantly, Murphy stopped shaking.

"It's okay, Murph. I'm here. I'm always here for ya."

"We're not five anymore. Ya don't need to baby me," Murphy mumbled, half asleep.

"I know that, ya idjit, but you're still my brother," Connor said firmly, accent thickening as emotion of protection overcame him. "An' I'll always be here for ya."

It was quiet for a while, and Connor thought that Murphy had fallen asleep. He was surprised when he heard a whisper in the dark.

"Thanks, Con."

They never told each other they loved each other. It was just a brother thing and it just didn't happen. They didn't really have to because they already knew. Still, sometimes there were moments where a brother almost said the taboo words. The teasing brotherly love was their way of expressing it.

So instead of saying those three important words, he simply said the equivalent, which was, "Shut up and go back to sleep."

Murphy couldn't help but smile. Then he slept soundly through the night.


	2. Plans and Blackmail

_Chapter One Summary: As villains plan against the twins, the boys take care of some business by busting a drug deal. Murphy also confides in his fears that something will happen to his brother after being plagued by nightmares. Connor tries to comfort him by promising that he won't let anything happen to them. But will he be able to keep his word?_

_A/N: This chapter is a little shorter than the first and it lacks many light moments. It's kinda set up for the whole plot. This will probably be the driest chapter in the story, but it has necessary evils in it. But it's got a fair bit of brother angst, so that was fun to play around with. If you have any tips, comments, questions, concerns, please review or PM me._

_Warning: Rated T. Will be M in later chapters for violence, death, serious whump, ect... So, all the things you expect from Boondocks._

* * *

**Brotherhood of Saints**

**_Plans and Blackmail_**

"Lorenzo, tell me you love me."

"I'll tell you I love you the day you deliver me the Saints' heads on a platter," Lorenzo scoffed, trying to ignore the raven beauty gripping his shoulders from behind him. "I'll even kiss the ground you walk on."

"Oh, with how things are going, I believe that little dream of yours may be coming true very soon."

His eyebrows raised in speculation while her fingernails trailed down his square jaw. "You have something for me?"

Anna grinned as a man came out from behind her. He was a stout man with scars all over him. He handed her a small envelope which she snatched away. With a flick of her wrist, she dismissed him.

"If you keep having Marco do everything, he may start getting too smart for his own good. We may have to take care of him," Lorenzo pointed out.

"It's not him that we need to worry about. It's the man who took these that needs to be retired," Anna commented lightly, placing the envelope in Lorenzo's hands.

He sniffed and opened the envelope and slid it's contents onto his desk. Pictures spilled out of two young men. Though one had darker coloring than the other, they both had a similar look about them.

"They don't look too Saintly, do they?" Lorenzo pondered, taking in their tattoos. "They look related, though."

"That's because they're brothers," Anna informed him, her voice sweet like bells. "Twins in fact. We looked them up with our resources and found out enough. This is Connor MacManus," she tapped the edge of the picture with the lighter twin. "And this is his slightly younger brother, Murphy," she tapped the other.

"So now we know them. Now we can figure out how to get rid of them."

"But we have to do this right, Lorenzo. You forget, they are very good at killing people. We don't need to get caught up in that. We need to take this slowly if we want to break them correctly."

"How did you get these pictures anyways, Anna?"

"Simple. I sent four wastes of air on a small deal with no weapons. I told them they didn't need them because nothing was going to happen at such a small exchange."

"You sent them unarmed? Cruel woman."

Anna grinned. "I know. But while they were being disposed of, I had someone on the roof take these lovely pictures for us. And soon, I'll be taking care of him as well. Plus, we'll get one more use out of him in my little plan."

"And what use is that, my dear?"

"Why, destroying those twins as slowly and as intimately as possibly," she purred sweetly while bitting at his ear.

"Anna, I think I love you."

**B~D~S**

* * *

Murphy crossed himself and stood at the front of the church. His brother moved with him as they turned and left the morning mass congregation. As soon as they hit the fresh air, they lit up a much-needed cigarette.

They had plans to head over to the local diner to get breakfast since they'd cleaned out their refrigerator. They walked to their car and got in. Connor had inserted the key in the ignition when his cell phone rang.

The twins shared a look. Not many people had their numbers. In fact, they only time they ever really used the phones was to call each other if one made a late run to the store to get some smokes.

But someone was calling. Connor fished the phone out of his pocket and answered. He put the call on speaker so Murphy could hear as well. "Hello?"

"Connor MacManus?" someone asked on the other line. The voice was familiar, but Murphy just couldn't place it.

"Aye, this is he. And you are?"

"It's, me, boys. Smecker."

"Smecker! How are you doing?" Murphy asked, happy to hear from the FBI agent. The last time they'd seen him, he'd been... well, in a dress, trying to save their skins from Papa Joe.

"Well, see, I'm not doing too well, boys. Is there something going on with you two that I need to know about? Because I got a... message this morning."

"Other than what ya already know, no, business is usual," Connor said. "What do ya mean you got a message?"

"It's not really something I can talk about on the phone. We need to meet and then I can show you," Paul explained. He sounded weary, like to the bone exhausted.

The twins' eyes met. While they had no worries about meeting their friend, they were upset that something had disturbed the man so much.

"That's fine. How about the South Park?" Connor proposed.

"South Park it is, then. In an hour?"

"That soon? Aren't ya working?" Murphy asked.

"The sooner you guys see this, the better. I think we've got a big problem on our hands, boys. I've already got the team working on it, but it's hard what with the other cops in the station."

The team. Dolly, Duffy and Greenly. If something big enough had happened that all four of them had their hands full, it wasn't good news.

"An hour it is, then. We're headed over now," Connor said. He hung up the phone and started the car.

The silence in the car was usually comfortable between the brothers, but not today. Today, the air was stiff. The boys knew something bad had happened if Smecker was willing to physically call them. They had stayed in light contact through a few texts every once in a while, but they hadn't made direct contact since Connor had called the agent when they were going to hit Papa Joe.

The twins got to the park first. It was a little after noon when Smecker showed up at the fountain in the middle of the park where the Saints waited. He looked weary, like he hadn't slept well the past few days. Tired eyes met the blue of each twin.

"What's this all about, Smecker?" Connor asked.

The agent sank his tired body down onto a bench, head bowed, hands clasped. "Boys, we've got a problem. A big problem."

"An' what would that be?" Murphy quizzed.

Smecker pulled an envelope out of his suit pocket. He held it out for one of them to take. Murphy took it and opened it as Connor looked over his shoulder.

Inside were pictures of a dead man that they'd never seen before. But it looked like they had killed him. He was in their signature position, hands crossed over his chest, pennies on the eyes which had been blown out by bullets. Under his hands a gleaming piece of paper was tucked.

"We didn't do this," Connor said, pulling the photo from his brother's hands. "We were taking care of business last night."

"I figured _that_ out," Smecker said sarcastically. "Got to see your work this morning. Besides, you guys have never moved a body."

"Moved a body? What do ya mean?" Murphy was confused.

"That person became my own personal lawn ornament last night. I woke up with someone knocking on my door. I opened it and that's what I found," Smecker explained. "Someone who knows I have your case wanted to leave a message."

"So you're saying our huge problem is a copy cat? We can take care of that," Connor said with confidence.

Still, something wasn't sitting well with Murphy. "What is that there under his hands?"

"That would be these," Smecker said dryly, holding out a plastic bag to them. Connor took it. As he studied the photos in them though, his face paled. Murphy moved to see what the fuss was about. He took the bag from Connor's long fingers and examined it.

A photo of himself and Connor met his eyes. He almost dropped the evidence, but managed to keep his trembling hands from letting go of it. "That's not good," he commented lightly.

"Flip it over," his brother said.

He did as he was told and his heart almost stopped. Written in beautiful cursive were the most horrible words that Murphy could imagine: _Noi Ci vediamo presto, Santo Connor._

"Do you know what it says?" Smecker asked. "I can't read Italian and it came off weird on google translate."

Connor laughed humorlessly. "Yeah. It says, 'We'll be seeing you soon, Saint Connor.'"

A dark expression came over Smecker's face. Finally, they all understood the gravity of the situation.

Murphy was terrified. His nightmares about something happening to his brother were coming true. He had to stop this from happening. He had to protect Connor.

"We need to find these guys," he said. Adrenaline was taking over. Murphy felt the need to do something, anything to help. "We'll find them and kill 'em all."

Connor and Smecker both gave him the same look. They wore matching expressions of concern for him that he felt were totally unnecessary. Sure, his picture had been taken as well, but the threat had only been specifically directed at Connor.

"I have my team on the case. They still want me to rule whether it's you guys or a copy cat."

"What do you plan on tellin' 'em?" Connor asked.

"Well, I figure that it's really up to you. If I say it's a copy cat, they may try to take the case and give it to someone else. Dolly, Duffy and Greenly are working on it now."

Murphy knew the Saints couldn't take credit for the murder. They didn't even know the man. What if he'd been an upstanding citizen? The Saints stood to end evil, not random people.

He shared a look with his brother, who seemed to be thinking the same thing. Connor ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "Have ya got an I.D on the body?"

Smecker shook his head. "No. We have no print matches in the data base. The only thing we really have to go on is the tattoo."

"What tattoo?"

Smecker took the picture of the body and gestured for the boys to look. He pointed to a tiny ink mark on the man's hand, located on the skin of his hand between his thumb and pointer finger.

"What is tha'?" Murphy asked, squinting at the image.

"Well, up close and personal, its a fanciful 'D' with horns and a tail attached to it."

"And that means?" the darker twin prodded.

"It's a gang tattoo. But I don't know for what gang," Connor admitted.

"I do," Smecker said darkly. "Have you boys ever heard of El Diablos?"

A pair of deep frowns formed on the twins' faces. They had indeed heard of the El Diablos before. An Italian mob gang that focused their hold on the local drug cartel. They were very secretive about their operations, but everyone in town knew about them. They were spoken of as if they were ghosts.

It was common knowledge of their ruthless nature.

"Aye, we know 'em," Murphy said finally. And he would kill every last one of them if they came near his brother.

Murphy was shaking with anger and fear. It rolled off of him in waves. Connor couldn't help but notice his brother's distress. He placed a hand on his shoulder, trying to be reassuring. He felt his twin relax under his touch.

If Smecker had noticed the small exchange, he didn't act like he did. Instead, he stood from the bench and stretched. "If we get an I.D., you'll be the first to know. Until then, you two need to make yourself scarce."

"Are ya tellin' us to hide?" Connor asked with an air of disbelief. His Irish pride would never allow him to do such a thing.

"I'm saying you need to keep yourselves safe. We're going to get these guys, but it's going to take a bit of time."

Murphy nodded in agreement. He knew that he could protect Connor better if they stayed away somewhere instead of taking on the city in the middle of the night. At least for a few days. He knew Smecker would be able to find these guys if given the time. And then they would meet their end, and their maker.

Connor however hated the idea of not doing anything. He and Murphy would be just fine. They'd take out this gang just as easily as they had every other evil man they had met. "I won't hide," he said firmly. "We'll take care of this issue." As soon as the words were out of his mouth, though, he could feel his brother stiffen under his hand.

(**1**)"Ach deartháir, cad faoi do gealltanas a dom? Cad mar gheall ar a bheith sábháilte?" Murphy said quietly in gaelic.

"It'll be just like Papa Joe. We'll take care of the problem," Connor replied, trying to ease Murphy's worries.

Murphy really didn't want to blackmail Connor, but his options of persuasion were limited. He had to protect his brother no matter what, even if it was from his own stupid choices.

(**2**)"An bhfuil tú ag caint faoi nuair a bhí athair anseo? Nó fuair bás ar an Rocco oíche os comhair dúinn agus bhí orainn a bhriseadh mo lámh roimh mharaigh siad dúinn, freisin? Má dhéanann muid seo gan plean, b'fhéidir an chéad uair eile beidh sé a bheith dom go bás."

Connor sobered from his overconfidence immediately. The very thought of losing his brother put a nasty taste in his mouth and caused his lungs to constrict. Without a second thought, he addressed Smecker, who looked lost upon the exchange of foreign words. "We'll stay in the apartment a week."

He had a promise to keep and he was going to make sure that it was kept.

* * *

_A/N: In case you wanted to know what Murphy was saying, here's a rough translation. I don't speak Gaelic and google translate was my only tool available. Sorry if I messed anything up._

_**(1)But brother, what about your promise to me? What about being safe?**_

_**(2)Are you talking about when Da was here? Or the night Rocco died in front of us and we had to break my hand before they killed us, too? If we do this without a plan, maybe next time it'll be me that dies.**_


	3. Patients and Phone Calls

_Chapter Two Summary: After going to church, the twins get a call from Smecker asking them to meet him. They meet at the park and Smecker tells them that they're being targeted by a gang called El Diablos, who left them a body with pictures of the boys and a message saying they were after Connor. Fearing for his brother's life, Murphy guilts his twin into letting Smecker's team take control of the case temporarily while they stay in the apartment for a week._

_A/N: Hiya, so here's the next chapter. I noticed the formatting was off when I read this online and I'm SO sorry about that. In fact, it's the reason I'm giving you this chapter now. I think I've fixed it but If there's still a problem, bear with me and blame my iPad! By the way, I think that you may hate me by the time you finish reading this... but more reviews mean faster updates!_

_Warning: Rated T. Will be M in later chapters for violence, death, serious whump, ect... So, all the things you expect from Boondocks._

* * *

**Brotherhood of Saints**

**_Patients and Phone Calls_**

"So what's next, Anna? Now that we have them running, we should make our move."

"We could," she agreed with a slight bob of her head. "But we would be very wrong if we did."

"Not backing out, are you?"

"Of course not," she said sharply. Through Anna had an immeasurable amount of patience, Lorenzo was usually able to bring her to her limits. "You must have patience. This is where we let their fears eat away at them. It'll consume them to the point that it will begin to effect their minds, weakening them for when the time is right. Give a little more time and then we'll make our move."

Frown lines marked his olive-skin face. "All this waiting is getting old. It's also effecting my business. _They're_ effecting business."

"How so?"

"People are starting to become too afraid to do business. They think the Saints are going to kill them if they try to buy. To some people, their lives are more important than their next hit, no matter how good it is."

Anna frowned. "That isn't good at all. Still, we need time. It'll be worth it in the end. If waiting is bad enough for you, just think of what fearing for their lives are doing to _them_ right now."

"Still, I need something done about them soon."

"I really think we need more time-" She started, getting weary with the conversation. She was interrupted.

"Anna, soon. I mean it." A tone that she knew there was no use arguing against.

Anger flared through the petite Italian woman. She didn't like being ordered about. Lorenzo knew it, too. That's why he usually let her have her way, because she always produced the results he wanted. Still, sometimes, he would flex his power over her, remind her who was really in charge in the end.

She wouldn't look him in the eye. Her fingers played with the ends of her long black hair, pretending to look for split ends that couldn't be found. "As you wish," she seethed.

He smiled at her, though it didn't exactly meet his eyes. She knew she would have to warm him up to her later if she wanted to have his good graces again. When the boss wanted something, he was never denied.

"Today," she confirmed. "I'll do it today."

He grinned. "Excellent."

**B~D~S**

* * *

Connor was going to kill his stupid hyperactive brother.

It had been a week to the day since the body had been found. The twins had stayed nice and safe, locked in their one room apartment. They waited for any word from the police, a lead to chase after, but none had surfaced yet. Seven long, long days being stuck with his annoying twin right on top of him.

Connor wondered how he'd survived nine months trapped in the womb.

He was mostly annoyed because he couldn't find any of his things. Because Murphy was the kind of person who always had to be up and moving, out of sheer boredom he had cleaned the whole room from to top bottom. Everything was neatly put away, unlike it ever had been before.

Connor didn't like it. It was way too clean.

"Sit down and stop with this cleanin' stuff. The place is already spotless," he grumbled from his place on the couch.

Murphy ignored his brother and continued to wipe the bare shelves of the refrigerator down. "We're outta food."

"Well, call Greenly and ask 'em to grab some stuff when he can."

"Actually, I was thinkin'..."

"And why would ya go n' do a thing like that?"

Murphy frowned. He knew Connor was being extra mean because he was tired of being stuck inside for so long. Still, he pressed his issue. "Thinkin' that maybe we should step out this mornin' and get some groceries. We could always go to mass beforehand."

Connor glared at him in astonishment. Blue eyes matching his own were orbs of ice. "Are ya kiddin' me? Please tell me you're kiddin' me right now, deartháir."

"I'm not, brother."

"You're the one who blackmailed me into stayin' in this apartment while you played housewife for a whole bleedin' week!" he exploded.

Murphy smirked. He knew if he could get Connor to cave that this would all blow over. "Guilted. I guilted you. Not blackmail."

"It's the same thing!"

"Whatever! Point bein', we need to get out for a bit."

"What about El Diablos, huh? Did ya forget we've got the devil breathing down our necks? For _my_ blood?"

Murphy shrugged, trying to not seem like the last sentence bothered him. In truth, he was still very worried, but Connor's negativity was driving him mad. They needed to get out for a while or they'd soon come to blows with each other. "We'll just pop our for mass, some food, a bit o' fresh air and pop right back in. We'll stick together."

Connor continued to glare, nose flaring with deep breaths as he listened.

"It's been a week, Con. They won't pull anything for an hour or two this exact morning. We can even go armed."

Connor though about it. Though he really wanted to get out, the threat was still gnawing at the back of his mind. But still...

There were these times Murphy would give him this look, this idolizing, loving, look with eyes that match his own. That look told Connor that if he said no then that would be the end of it, but to say yes would mean everything to his brother. That look got him every time. He didn't know if Murph knew about his weapon, but he aways managed to use it when he really wanted something. It was like he _knew_ that Connor could deny that look.

He was pulling that look right now.

"Alright," Connor sighed.

Murphy fist-pumped the air and let out an excited, "Yes!"

Connor smirked at his brother's antics, a warm feeling filled his heart. He loved it when Murphy was happy. He pulled his brother into a one-armed hug, trying to apologies for being a jerk without actually having to say it.

Murphy understood.

With a wry grin, he wrapped his arm around his brother's neck and ruffled his hair. Connor ripped away from his grasp, hurling insults while trying to fix his wild spikey locks. Murphy just sniggered and stretched his tight muscles.

"C'mon. Best suit up. I don't like takin' weapons to church but I'd rather we play it safe today," Connor looked around the room, forgetting that the weapons were no longer strewn across the room but had been put away. "Where the hell are our guns, Murph?"

With a roll of his eyes, Murphy got up from his spot on the counter and went to a large black trunk in the corner of the room. He flipped the latches open, reveiling all of their weapon arsenal neatly arranged inside.

Connor groaned at the neatness but went to his brother's side and dug through the trunk. His eyes lit up as he pulled a coil of rope out and gazed at his twin in wonder.

Murphy shrugged. "I know how ya are about your stupid rope."

Connor grinned as he dug through and tossed Murphy his large knife. "There ya go, Rambo." Murphy smiled as he shoved the blade into his boot, hiding it.

The twins, in a lighter mood, suited up and gulled on their coats. It was a bit chilly as winter was coming upon them. Soon, they were off and headed to mass. It was a quick service and they didn't pay much attention. They were too busy fidgeting in their seats the whole time, fearing that a hit man would show up at any moment.

When done, the two headed out and got in their car. Connor got in the driver's seat while Murphy buckled up. "We're goin' to skip the grocery store for the day, 'eh Murph? I don't wanna press our luck too much for one day."

Murphy frowned. "But, Con! I'm starvin'!"

"Then let's stop for a bite," Connor chuckled. "Then we go home."

He could hear the note of finality to his voice, so Murphy just nodded in agreement. As long as he could get some food in his empty belly he'd be happy.

They pulled into a Denny's, where they were quickly seated by a busty blond girl who kept eyeing them as she took orders from other parties. The diner was quiet, only a few other people there than the two boys.

When she made her rounds back to them, she was clearly checking them both out as she took Murphy's order for a coffee and Connor's for a water, hold the nasty lemon.

Murphy's stomach growled as he searched the menu for something that he wanted to eat. Connor already had his picked out when the blond came back with their drinks.

"I'll have a grand slam and my brother will have..."

"I'll have the same," Murphy answered. He looked at her uniform to see her name was Amy. He smiled shyly at her. "Thank ya, Amy."

Amy blushed and smiled warmly at him. "That's fine, sugar. I'll be back with your food in a bit."

Connor smacked his brother's head none too gently. Murphy cried out and rubbed the spot with an indignant look on his face. "The hell was that for?"

"Look at you, lookin' down 'er shirt!"

"I was lookin' at 'er name tag, ya wop!"

"_Sure_ ya were."

"I was! 'Sides, if ya saw me lookin', your eye must've been doin' some wanderin' yourself."

Connor snorted with an impish grin. "Can yah blame me? I mean, did ya _see_ how low cut that shirt is?"

They both busted out in laughter and had to stifle it as Amy came back with their steaming plates of food. She offered them both a wink and was off to go wait on other customers.

Connor and Murphy dug in without a word. Murphy only looked to his brother when he heard him chuckling while looking intently at a napkin. Murphy cocked an eyebrow. "An' what are you chortlin' about?"

"Oh, nothin', my brother. Just the fact that _Amy_ here decided I was the one worth talking to," he teased, flipping the thin sheet of paper around so that Murphy could see ten numbers carefully inked in.

It was Murphy's turn to laugh as he pulled out the napkin his coffee had rested upon. "Looks like she fancies both of us!"

Connor's face fell. But then he remembered something and he was laughing once again. "This is almost as bad as Sally Tibo!"

Murphy coughed on his drink and he laughed at the memory. "I almost forgot about her! We were what? Twelve?"

"Thirteen. Back home, still. I can't believe that she actually thought she could two-time us!"

"Aye, the little vixen thought she could ask us both out on the same day like we wouldn't notice!"

Connor took a bite of his food, still smiling at the memory. "I wonder whatever happened to her."

Murphy froze mid-bite. "You don't know?"

Connor frowned and shook his head. What didn't he know?

Murphy ran a hand through his hair and shook his head, his eyes not able to meet his brother's. "Ma told me 'bout it a'while ago. Called out of the blue one day to chat. She ended up tellin' me that Sally went off and married a wife beater. Guess one day he went too far an'... an'... well."

Anger flared in Connor. The boys had never been friends with Sally, really. She had just been the cute little redhead flirt of the town. Still, she had been a sweet thing, not a bad thought in her heart. It was people like her husband that the Saints existed for.

As if Murphy could read his twins mind he said softly, "We can't stop, Con. We just can't."

"I know, Murph. I really do."

They finished their meals in silence, both making sure to leave a nice tip and taking the numbers with them. They doubted that they'd ever call, but they didn't want to hurt the girl's feelings.

They went home and both breathed a sigh or relief as Connor locked the door behind them. They stripped of their guns and to Murphy's surprise, Connor put them back in their place in the chest. He then followed his brother's example and sat down next to him on the couch.

Connor mindlessly flipped through the channels, trying to find something interesting enough to catch his attention. After a while, he noticed that his brother had fallen asleep, Murphy's head resting heavily on his shoulder. Connor smirked as his brother snored softly.

That was when Murphy started fidgeting.

Connor wrapped his arm protectively around his brother and kissed the top of his head. "Calma síos, Murphy. Tá sé ach aisling." _Calm down, Murphy. It's just a dream._

As a child when Murphy had ever had nightmares, all Connor had to do was speak softly to him in Gaelic, Murphy's favorite language. Instantly, his fears would be gone and he would sleep peacefully through the night.

Connor almost never knew what ailed his brother in his dreams because Murphy saw them as a weakness and almost never shared. Still, Connor knew that out of the two that he himself was the person with the plan, no matter how bad it was, and Murphy was the one who got to worry about dealing with the cleanup and consequences.

Sometimes, the worry just got to be a little too much for one person to deal with.

Murphy curled closer to his brother in his sleep, still mumbling feverishly. "No... no..."

"Ní dhéanfaidh aon ní ag dul chun Gortaítear tú. Ní bheidh mé in iúl rud ar bith tarlú." _Nothing is going to hurt you. I won't let anything happen._

"No, Connor... Connor stay..." he whimpered, his fingers curling around the fabric of his brother's shirt.

"Tá mé anseo. Níl mé ag dul in áit ar bith, deartháir," Connor squeezed his hold gently on him. _I'm here. I'm not going anywhere, brother._

"No, not him! Please, no!"

Connor snapped. That was enough. I couldn't stand to hear his brother beg for something like that, sounding so broken. His protective side kicked in and he shook his brother awake. "Murphy, wake up."

The darker twin shot up and rubbed his eyes, still visibly shaking from his night terrors. Connor didn't reach out to hold him again now that he was awake. He knew it would bruise his brother's strong Irish ego. He just acted like nothing had ever happened and took a sip from his beer, eyes trained on the TV.

"You can talk about it if ya want ta', ya know, Murph?"

Murphy scowled. "Nothin' ta' talk 'bout, Con."

"Sure dinnit sound like nothin'."

"Yeah, well screw ya," Murphy snapped, getting up and snatching a drink from the fridge.

"Ya don't have to get mad at me for caring," Connor shot back, a little hurt at Murphy's outburst. He knew that Murph was embarrassed but he didn't like being talked to like that. When the two fought, it usually wasn't ever something important like this.

"Just 'cause Da told us you're a whole minute older doesn't mean you get to tell me what to do, Con! I'll get mad if I wanna!"

"Listen to yourself! Ya sound like a child!"

"Yeah, well I'm not a child," Murphy hissed while strapping his gun on and donning his coat.

Connor didn't like that. It had only been the first day out and now Murphy thought all was clear? "And where the hell do ya think you're goin'?"

"Out," Murphy barked while checking his pocket. "We're out of smokes. I'm goin' down to the corner store to get some more. I'll be back in half an hour."

"Murphy, wait!" Connor called, getting up from the couch just as his brother opened the door.

Murphy paused and turned slowly, blue eyes meeting their matching pair. "What, Connor? Can't trust me for a few minutes?"

Connor swallowed hard. If he put his foot down, Murphy would stay. He knew. But there was that look again. That pleading look, asking for his approval. He knew his brother needed to blow off a little steam. Still, something felt off. He didn't want to say yes, but...

That look...

Connor sighed and felt very wrong. "Ya got enough bullets? Your phone?" _Please be safe. Be careful._

Murphy knew what he was saying. He patted his pocket and the corners of his lips turned up in a small, almost nonexistent smile. "Yeah, I'm good." _I'll be okay._

Connor nodded and scuffed his boot against the floor. "Alright, be back soon."

"I will," came the promise as the door closed.

Connor tossed his empty can at the wall, mad at himself for letting his brother walk out that door. He knew he was being silly and that Murphy could take care of himself, but he still hated the idea of his brother being by himself.

He forced himself to calm down and sit back on the couch. He left the channel running but he wasn't paying attention. He was checking his watch every five seconds, watching the hands creep by ever so slowly. When he wasn't checking his watch, his eyes were pinned on the door, waiting for his brother to come home so he could hug him and then cuff him on the head for the worry.

He prayed, just wanting to see his brother walk through that door.

When thirty minutes had passed, Connor started biting his nails, a nervous habit. While Murph only chewed on his thumb, he would attack the whole hand.

When forty minutes had passed, he had stubs attached to his fingers.

When an hour had gone by, the tips of his fingers were bleeding and raw.

It was then that Connor got up and started to suit up, ready to go after his brother.

It was then that the phone rang.

Connor scrambled to answer it when he saw that it was Murphy calling. "Murphy, I'm gonna kill ya when you get home! Where the hell are ya?"

_"Connor MacManus,"_ an unfamiliar woman's voice said on the other end. It was not a question.

His blood ran cold. Something was very wrong. "Who's this?"

_"Just a person with a simple question,"_ she said in an innocent tone. _"Today, you let your brother leave your watchful side. So tell me this, Connor, was it worth it?"_

Connor's stomach churned. A lump formed in his throat, though he managed to choke out, "Worth what?"

_"Why, your brother's life, of course."_

The line went dead.


	4. Weaknesses and Admissions

_Chapter Three Summary__: After being stuck inside for a week, the twins start to get snippy with each other. In an attempt to avoid fighting, Murphy talks Connor into going to mass. The two catch food at a diner and head home after. Murphy is embarrassed when he wakes up from a nightmare and Connor tries to talk to him about it. Murphy leaves in anger and says he'll be back in half an hour when Connor is worried. Hours later, Connor is worried but is relieved when he gets a call from Murphy's phone. But it's not Murphy. Someone has taken the younger twin._

_A/N__: So... I love cliffies as you can see, but I felt really bad leaving you guys hanging like that and thanks to some epic reviews and PM's, I decided to have mercy on you and post the next chapter now because I will be without a computer tomorrow. I'll have another chapter posted Friday unless I'm murdered or something dramatic of that nature. Plus, I'll have a REALLY mean chapter just for you on Easter, which happens to be my 16th Birthday. Connor emotes a lot in this one. I mean, a lot! He just needed to get all the feelings out and Murphy wasn't there, so the team fills in._

_Warning__: Rated T. Will be M in later chapters for violence, death, serious whump, ect... So, all the things you expect from Boondocks._

* * *

**Brotherhood of Saints**

**_Weaknesses and Admissions_**

"So how goes it with our new friend?" Lorenzo asked as Anna slipped into the room. He was curious as to the Saint's reaction to the situation.

"Mm, well one thing is for sure. He doesn't have a very saintly mouth on him. He's a fighter, that one. Marco had a hard time keeping hold of him." Anna stretched her shoulders a brushed off something on her dress in an annoyed fashion.

"I'm sure you can fix that little problem," he commented dryly. "Have you contacted the brother yet?" He couldn't help but feel excited about the plan. It was going so smoothly. He had known Anna was capable of doing this, he just had no idea that it would go over so well.

"Actually, I just did," she grinned. "We're having quite the effect on him. I though he was going to lose it on the phone."

"Good. So what now?"

"Now is when we get to start to have fun," Anna chirped. "Connor knows baby brother is missing, but he doesn't know his condition. Now is when we let him know that his precious Murphy is unharmed. For the moment, at least."

"And when are you planning on doing that?"

"I'm on my way now," she informed him while heading to the door. "We can't have my new pet getting lonely, can we?"

"When do I get to meet him?" Lorenzo asked.

Anna shrugged her thin shoulders. "Not right now. I'm still letting him adjust a bit. He's not awake right now anyways, but that should be changing soon. I suppose tomorrow would be fine."

"Anna, tell me this. Why him? I mean, if the other is older, isn't he the one calling the shots between the two?"

"Yes, and that's exactly the point."

"If that's the point, why didn't we go after him instead of the younger brother?"

"Because that's the deal. Though they draw their strength from each other, they've become each other's greatest weakness. So the boys don't care about self-preservation? That's fine. But they need each other to exist, at this point. So, hurt one, you destroy the other. And how do you do that? You go after the baby. Big brother will break."

"You really think that just by taking his twin is going to make them stop being Saints?"

Anna laughed, and it wasn't a pleasant sound. She sounded high-strung, like her patients were wearing thin. "Of course not. These two aren't afraid of death. What they _do_ fear is something happening to each other."

"So taking a Saint hostage is going to cause the other enough mental anguish that they'll stop?"

"No, I highly doubt it. I think that by making one suffer while the other can do nothing but sit by will do the job quite nicely, though. Don't you?"

**B~D~S**

* * *

Connor usually had a lot of self-control. Unlike his brother, who always had to be moving, he could sit still for hours.

Right now, Connor was pacing. He had to be up and doing something. If he wasn't, he would think about what could be happening, and then he would snap and lose it.

More than anything, he wished for Murphy to walk through the door, but he knew that wouldn't happen. Someone had his brother, and it was driving Connor insane.

He wanted to be out there looking for Murphy. Still, he knew he couldn't. As Greenly pointed out, Connor was still a target. If something happened to him he wouldn't be of any help to Murph.

He couldn't take the small building anymore. His fist connected with a wall, leaving him with a hole and bleeding knuckles. "Where the hell is Smecker?" he growled at the cop sitting on his couch.

Duffy flinched at his friend's tone. "He said he was on his way."

"Well, he's takin' forever about it! They could be doin' God knows what to my brother!" he panicked, accent getting thicker.

"You can't think like that," Duffy tried to console.

"Yes, I can! How can I not? And it's my fault, innit it?" Connor hissed, rubbing at watery eyes. "I let him walk out that door. And I knew better, too! I just _knew_ something was gonna happen!"

"Playing the blame game isn't going to help your brother. He needs you to keep it together now. He's a big boy and he made the choice to leave. It's not your's or his fault that this happened. It's whoever took him's."

Connor sank down on the couch next to Duffy, fingers knotting in his hair. "But he's my baby brother... I'm s'posed to take care of 'em..."

Duffy frowned. "I thought you guys are twins."

Connor let out a rueful smile. "We are. Ma never would tell us who was oldest. Before Da went back to Ireland, he let it slip that I was oldest. Murphy was so mad," he chuckled. "But he got over it mostly. I think we both already knew. At least I always acted like it."

Duffy didn't say anything for a while. Timidly, as if fearing the results, he placed a light hand on the Irishman's shoulder. "We're going to get him back, Connor. There's a whole team looking for him and we're not going to stop."

Connor nodded. Though he appreciated the kind words, he wasn't going to take comfort in them until he saved his brother. Until he killed every last one of these idiots who'd dared to take him.

Someone knocked on the door and Connor's hand flew to his waistband, drawing his gun.

Duffy went to the door, his own gun at the ready. He looked through the peephole. Connor sighed with relief when the door opened to reviel Paul Smecker with Dolly behind him.

Connor got up and ushered the two inside. "Any word?" he asked the agent. He knew Smecker wasn't going to lie to him or try to sugarcoat anything. They had intrusted him with the secret of the Saints and he had been loyal in helping them with their mission.

Smecker nodded, his face weary with stress lines. He cared greatly for the brothers and hadn't slept since he'd found out about Murphy disappearing last night. "We... well, Connor, I hate to say this, but we found the crime scene."

Connor's stomach churned. "He... he's..."

Smecker cut him off. "No! No we haven't found... a body... or anything like that. But in the ally out back, the one from Saint Patrick's Day, there was signs of a struggle."

Connor was out the door before they could stop him. Smecker knew better than to try.

Greenly was in the ally, looking down on something when Connor came down. The cop met up with the Saint. "Hey, Connor. How are you holding up?"

"I'll be fine soon as we get my brother back."

Greenly nodded. "I'm guessing you wanna know exactly what happened."

"I do."

"That's fine, but I gotta ask Smecker-"

"Tell him," Smecker interjected. He, Dolly, and Duffy joined the two in the ally.

"Alright, so here's what went down." Greenly started out, "Murph's coming home, he's walking down here, almost to the apartment. He comes down here when..." he trailed.

"When what?" Connor asked, annoyed at the sudden pause.

Smecker could tell Greenly didn't want to deliver the bad news to their friend, so the agent took it upon himself. "When his was attacked by someone. We know Murphy put up a good fight, but we found evidence that they got in a headshot, knocking him out."

He could feel the air rush out of his lungs. Still, Connor knew he had to hold it together. "Then what happened?"

Smecker crouched down, gloved fingers trailing on the muddy ground. "See this? These tracks tell us that Murphy was dragged to the end of the ally and loaded into a waiting vehicle."

"Okay, so we know what happened. Now how are we going to get my brother back?"

"Well at the moment, I've got people in forensics working on this," Dolly piped up. "We've got shoe prints and tire tracks so we're working from that angle."

"Connor, have the kidnappers called you back?" Smecker asked.

He knew that they hadn't because his phone had mostly been attached to his hand for the last few hours. Still, he fished it out of his pocket and glared at the screen. He was about to put it back, no results, when it buzzed.

"I just got a text, guys," he told them, thumbing the message open. His heart pounded in his chest. "It's from Murph's phone."

The law enforcers crowded behind him, peering at his phone. None of them liked what they saw.

It was a picture message. A photo of Murphy came up. He was in a chair, hands bound tightly behind his back with rope and ankles tied to the legs of the chair. He was gagged and blood poured from a nasty wound in his hairline. Someone's hand bearing that horrid tattoo was latched into his dark hair, wrenching his head back. Still, Murphy glared defiantly back at the camera, an infuriated look in his eyes,

Connor was pissed. "I'm going to kill every last one of those sons of-"

He caught the caption under the picture. It read: _Before the Games Begin_.

His legs gave out. Connor sank to the ground. He didn't know how he managed to not drop the phone, he didn't know how he managed to keep breathing. He had known. He just had. They weren't going to just take Murphy to have a tea party.

They were going to hurt him.

He was numb, but he felt people pulling him to his feet. He felt himself walking, supported by strong arms and he was gently set down on his couch. He couldn't remember the trip up the five floors. All he could think about was what was happening to Murphy.

"Connor? Connor, buddy? You there?" someone faintly called.

"Should we smack him? Isn't that what you do when they do this?" Greenly. That was Greenly, Connor remembered.

"No, we shouldn't smack him! Just give him a little air," Smecker ordered.

Suddenly, Connor's head was clear again and he could focus. Four faces looked at him expectantly.

"Connor, you okay, man?" Dolly asked.

Yes. That was the answer that was expected. He was Connor MacManus, the Saint of Truth. Only right now, he couldn't be a Saint. The Saints weren't really individual people. They were a combined force of righteousness. Right now, he was half Saint, his match missing.

So was he alright? The Saint would say yes, because the Saint was always okay. He had to be. He was a beacon of strength. A symbol of holy power. But Connor MacManus? He was just a man. A man can be damaged, can have weakness.

And right now, without his brother, Connor was all he could be.

"No, I'm not," he admitted quietly.

The cops were thrown. They'd never heard the proud, headstrong Irishman sound so destroyed. They knew he was having a hard time dealing with this, and they didn't blame him at all. Still, the admittance bothered them.

"Can I get you anything? I can make a run out for coffee if you want," Greenly offered, even though he hated being a delivery boy.

"I just... I just want my brother," Connor croaked, head falling between his knees, fingers knotting in his hair, shoulders slumped in defeat.

None of them knew what to say, but Duffy tried to be comforting. At the station, he was used to talking to victims, but he was never friends with any of them. "We're going to get him back, Connor. He'll be home soon enough."

"I'm scared," Connor admitted, head down. "The last time this happened, I almost lost him..."

"What do you mean, the last time this happened?" Dolly asked.

But Smecker knew. Though he didn't know what had happened in that room in the basement of Yakavetta's house, he'd seen the body of their friend, Rocco. He taken note of the two empty chairs, blood staining the steel cuffs. He knew that they had somehow escaped, but they hadn't really been the same people.

Connor looked up at them all, not really sure if he should say. The whole situation was a painful memory, but Connor really just needed to... not be strong for a little while. It had all become too much for him to handle alone. If he had Murphy, he would be able to confide in him, but now he was alone...

So he let it all out. He would never tell this story again, so he decided to tell it all "Smecker had just figured us out, decided that we were doin' the right thing. Murph, Rocco and I had decided that we needed to hit Papa Joe at his house, believin' it would be just him alone. I was wrong."

Dolly, Duffy and Greenly were totally enamored with the story. They had heard from Smecker that the boys had gone after the mob boss and that the mission had failed. But that was all. They assumed that something went wrong and the boys just decided to try again later. They didn't know what had really happened.

Connor seemed hesitant to move on, but Smecker knew that he needed to get it off chest. So he prodded him on a little. "I found out they had all his guys there and went as fast as I could to help. When I got there, you boys were gone."

Connor nodded. "Yeah. We... we went in that night, but we got overrun. We fought back, tried to get away, but they had Rocco and... they had... had Murphy... I just couldn't fight back when they had them."

"They took us to that room... cuffed us to the chairs... Murph tried to fight back, kept shootin' his mouth off. That mouth always got 'em in trouble. Earned a nice little beatin' for it. But he kept on fightin', just like always."

"They tried to question us. We wouldn't talk. They shot off Roc's finger... well, the other one. Then they... killed him. We couldn't stop it. It was like all the air was knocked out of me..."

The silence was heavy. Dolly coughed uncomfortably. Then he asked the question they all wanted to know the answer to. "How did you two get out of there?"

Connor chuckled darkly. "That's the thing, innit? See, we knew if we dinnit get out of there, they'd kill us next. We knew we had to get out, but it cost us. Cost us dearly..."

"...I had to... It was Murph's idea, and I hated it. Still, I knew it was our only shot. He managed to pull himself in front of me and he... he told me to do it... 'Do it, Connor' he said. And I did. I had to. And I will _never_ forgive myself..."

"What'd you do, Connor?" Greenly whispered, half afraid of the answer. He knew it wasn't good if it had Connor so upset.

"I broke it. Broke my brother's hand. He told me to. I didn't wanna, tried to think of something, anything else. But he just told me to do it. He just... gave me that look that asked for my trust that he was makin' the right choice. And so I did it. I had to break my brother's hand so that we could get out of that hell hole."

Connor's eyes were misted over, his mind back in that room. There he was again, listening to his brother's muffled screams as his boot came down time after time, crunching the bones of the person he cared about the most. Connor had never told Murphy, but he still every once in a while dreamed about it, all through the night, breaking his brother.

"Connor!" Smecker called. He'd seen the young man's mind drift to somewhere else and they needed him to pull it together. "Connor, I get this is hard but you have to snap out of it or Murphy is going to die!"

Connor's head snapped up, eyes focused intently on Smecker's "I won't let that happen. I promised him that I would take care of him," he said with a trembling voice.

"Then get off this couch and let's go find him."

Connor got up. He walked over to the wall where their rosaries hung. Murphy had forgotten his and Connor thought it looked much too lonely when he donned his own. He took his brother's rosary from the wall and wore it as well. He was going to return it to it's owner if it was the last thing he did.


	5. Defiance and Bargaining

_Chapter Four Summary: Anna makes plans to play with her new pet. Connor is working with Smecker and the team to find Murphy. As they look over the crime scene, Connor gets a text. It's a picture of a captured Murphy with an ominous caption of "Before the Games Begin". Connor has a bit of a meltdown before Smecker forces him to focus on the task at hand: finding Murphy._

_A/N: So here is the next chapter. If you've been freaking over Murphy... well, he's in this one a bit, but you'll probably still be freaking. Things aren't going too well for him. I won't be posting tomorrow, but the "mean" chapter will be posted on my birthday._

_Warning: Rated T. This chapter contains graphic violence. Will be M in later chapters for violence, death, serious whump, ect... So, all the things you expect from Boondocks._

* * *

**Brotherhood of Saints**

_**Defiance and Bargaining**_

"I want to meet him," Lorenzo told her as she slipped into his office. "Is he awake?"

Anna grinned and nodded. "For the moment. He's a strong one. A fighter. Those are the most fun to play with."

The boss got up and followed her out of his office door. She explained the situation to him as they walked through the wide halls of the warehouse. "He's in the main room where we keep our shipments. He doesn't know anything about you. I bet he assumes I'm in charge."

Lorenzo nodded. "I don't want him to see me. If we're not planning on killing him any time soon, I don't want him to able to I.D. me."

"Understood, dear. I'll take care of it," Anna said happily as they stopped outside the door to where they kept their drug shipment. She motioned for Lorenzo to wait while she went in first.

She saw Marco relaxing his lean body against one of the crates. He was wrapping bloody knuckles with some gauze and duct tape. Anna took the roll of tape from his busted up hands and tromped off farther into the room, walking up behind the bloody and bruised young man bound to a chair.

"Aww, Marco, have you been boring our guest?" she cooed. She saw the young man's spine straiten at the sound of her voice. He made no other movement than that and the laborious rise and fall of his chest.

Anna slipped around him so that she was right behind him. "You have a visitor. Someone who's been wanting to see you a while now," she whispered to him, lips grazing his ear.

His head turned to try to look at her best he could and she could tell what he was thinking. He thought they had his brother. She laughed at the dark look in his eyes. "But you won't actually get to see him. So I'm going to put this on if that's alright with you," she teased, knowing the gag tied around his head wasn't going to allow him to answer.

She ripped off a long piece of tape. He figured out what she was doing, she could see it in his eyes. He was smart, she'd give him that. So she motioned to Marco to hold him still when he leaned away from her.

Marco delivered a quick punch to the man's face, hoping to daze him, but it didn't work. The Saint could take a hit. He could take several. He already had. So the fresh blows just fueled his bruised body's strength as he tried to thrash his face away from Anna's long fingers.

Marco growled and fisted his hand in the man's hair, forcing him somewhat still. He hated the fact the Irishman wouldn't give. He wouldn't show fear, he wouldn't make a sound since he could no longer curse at them, and he wouldn't stop fighting. Unlike Anna, he didn't enjoy a challenge, he just enjoyed the power.

Anna managed to get the tape over his eyes and Marco delivered another hit to his face before releasing his grip on the Saint's hair. They could practically could feel the Saint glaring at them through his new blind, daring Marco to strike again.

Marco was rising to the challenge when Anna's hand wrapped about his wrist. "Now, now," she admonished. "Plenty of time for that later. Right now, he has to be awake for the boss."

She walked past the two, calling over her shoulder, "Rimanga qui. Passa." _Stay here. Hands off_, the Italian rolling easily off her tongue.

She went back to Lorenzo and smiled at him, taking his hand. He smiled back as she lead him into the room, excited to show him her new pet.

When they got back to the Saint, Marco had obeyed. He was playing with different things on the table next to him when the boss came in.

"Il capo, incontri Murphy MacManus. Il Santo famoso." _Boss, meet Murphy MacManus, the famous Saint._

"Voglio parlare con lui," _Lorenzo said. I want to speak with him._ In result, Marco came forward and ripped the gag from Murphy's mouth.

The twin moved his jaw once, relieved at the lack of pressure before clenching his teeth together. They didn't know that he could understand everything they said.

"Saint Murphy, welcome, benvenuto. I have a few simple questions for you and it'll be better if you answer them to the best of your ability," Lorenzo spoke in a friendly tone.

Murphy sneered at the man. Though he couldn't see, he still knew that this man was the one in charge. That woman calling all the shots since he'd woken up had called him boss, so Murphy knew things were getting more serious now.

He couldn't help but compare the sound of this man's voice to Papa Joe's. At least this time, he didn't have to worry about Connor getting hurt for his big mouth.

"Screw ya," Murphy rasped, mouth dry from the gag. A feeling of pleasure rolled through him at being able to curse at them again.

A fist met his face and Murphy thought that even if he wasn't blindfolded that he would only be able to see black. He spat blood in the direction of the man's voice.

"Now that wasn't very nice," the Boss said. "I may have to have my friend here teach you some manners."

"You're right," Murphy agreed. "M'sorry. Meant to say, 'Screw ya, sir'."

A dark chuckle made Murphy's skin crawl. He knew he was asking for trouble, yet he was determined to give this man as much hell as he could.

"Last chance before I have to start being rude myself. Tell me about your brother, Connor. He's very worried about you. Anna called him a while back to let him know that you'll be staying with us for a while. Why don't you tell me where he is?"

Murphy's skin crawled. He needed to keep Connor safe. He would die before he told these people anything. "Maybe ya didn't hear me the first two times. I'll say it slowly so ya can wrap your mind around the concept. Srcrew. You."

"Anna, teach the boy."

A sound of something scraping met Murphy's ears. Before he could guess what was happening, he felt the cold bite of metal brush against his flesh.

**B~D~S**

* * *

Connor was going mad. He was crashed out on the bed in Dolly's spare room. The guys had forced him to go home with one of them so that he wasn't alone. Plus, they didn't know if these guys knew where the MacManus' boys lived.

Duffy had a family, so Connor didn't want to risk them. Greenly was alright but Connor was worried he'd talk his ear off. That left Smecker and Dolly and... Connor would be suffocated in Smecker's home. The man was sharp and if Connor needed to do some snooping on the side, he didn't want to have to dodge the man every time he did so.

He was about to get up and unpack when his phone rang. Connor dug into his pocket and flipped it open before looking at the number. "Listen here, you sons of-"

_"Connor me boy! Is that how you talk to yer Mother?"_

Connor stopped mid-curse at the thick Irish accent on the other end. A rush of homesickness hit him at the sound. The hollow place in his chest that Murphy filled seemed to get wider and wider.

"Ma'... hello."

_"Don't ya 'Hello, Ma', me. Ya don't write. Ya don't call. Your brother is usually better at answering the phone than ya but he didn't pick up when I rang."_

A lump formed in Connor's throat. What the hell was he supposed to say? Sorry Ma, but Murph's been taken by some crazy mob gang and they very well may be hurting him right now. As if. The woman would have a heart attack.

"He's not here right now, Ma. I'm sure he'll call ya back as soon as he can..."

_"He better. Ya two ungrateful pissants doin' alright? Ya sound off, Connor."_

"Yeah, Ma. We're... We're fine. I'm just a bit tired."

Bleeding exhausted really, but he wasn't going to rest until he found his brother.

_"Mm, why do I get the feelin' that yer lyin' to me? Tell me what's wrong now, son."_ Her tone was gentle. Ma was never gentle unless she was worried, stressed or trying to comfort her sons.

"I... Ma, Murph and I... we're in a bit o' trouble. But I'm gonna fix it. I swear, alright?"

_"And Murph's gonna help ya, right?"_ The crack of worry in his mother's voice really drove to his core.

"No, Ma. This one's on me. And I promise ya, I'll take care of this." He couldn't say he'd take care of _him_. He wanted to tell her everything and promise her that he would get Murphy back. But if he was being completely honest, it wasn't something he could promise. For all he knew, though he felt deep in his heart that it wasn't the case, Murphy could be dead by now.

But he would find these people if that was the case. And he would kill every single last one of them.

_"I believe ya, Connor. Ya always keep your word. Ya always have. Yer a good boy. Just... just be safe, dearie. Okay? I can't... I don't wanna lose ya or yer brother. You'll always be me babes."_

Connor felt the hot tears gathering in his eyes, but he wouldn't let them fall. He just refused. He hadn't kept his word. He had promised Murph that he would protect him, and he had failed.

"Ma', I gotta go now. I'm gonna take care of it. I love ya...Murph loves ya..."

Connor ended the call, unable to hear his mother's pained voice anymore. He rubbed his eyes, feeling emotionally wrung out. He just wanted Murphy to be here to tell him what an idiot he was. Tell him that he watched too many action movies and that they had no need for the stupid rope.

He knew he would never give Murph a hard time about his stupid Rambo knife again.

The phone rang again. He couldn't deal with his mother right now, so praying it wasn't her, he looked at the caller I.D. It was Murphy's phone, but it wasn't Murphy.

"What?" Connor barked, his tone short.

But he wasn't met with a person's voice. Instead, he heard the sound flesh hitting flesh. The hair on the back of his neck raised, and his heart pounded faster as he heard a deep muffled groan when a particularly loud blow came.

"What is this? Stop!" Connor yelled into the phone. He knew exactly what it was. They were beating his brother and they were making him listen.

_"We have a lot to talk about, Connor," _the woman's voice from the first phone call said. _"Meet me at the Denny's you and your brother ate at two days ago. I'll be in the same booth you were. Come alone. Marco," _she called to someone she was with,_ "offer our guest a cigarette."_

Connor could hear the sound of a lighter clicking and before he could steel his emotions, he could hear his twin groan in agonized pain as something sizzled. He could hear muffled curses that sounded like his brother, but that was all.

The phone call ran a little longer before being cut and Connor was left with the sounds of his brother struggling to breath filling his ears. He couldn't help but take comfort in his brother's pained noises. He may be hurt, but he was alive. He was alive and Connor was going to find him. Though the call had done as intended in unnerving him, the call had also given Connor hope.

Connor didn't waste a moment. He pulled on his guns and buttoned his coat up over himself. Then he headed for Dolly's front door when the cop came out of nowhere and surprised him with a, "And where do you think you're going?"

Connor sighed. This had been what he was trying to avoid. "They called again. They... had me listen while they roughed up Murph. The woman that told me they had Murph in the first place told me to meet her at Denny's."

"I'll come with you. We can inform Smecker on the way," Dolly said.

"No, Dolly. I appreciate the offer, but they said to come alone. I don't like it either, but I... I'm worried what will happen to Murph if I don't obey. So I gotta do this on my own."

Dolly frowned. "So what? You want me to sit here and worry about you?"

"Well, here's the deal. We can't tell anyone, 'specially Smecker till I get back, or he'll show up. But I gotta lead. The woman spoke to someone she was with, called him Marco. If you can do it secret-like, look him up at the office and see if we can get a match with that name in the records. He'll be Italian and will probably have the D tattoo."

Dolly nodded. "It's a plan. I'll take care of it, and I'll get Duffy to help me. I'll have Greenly distract Smecker for an hour or two while you're out. But Connor, do me a favor."

"What's that?"

"Stay safe."

Connor smiled a little. "Aye, I'll do my best." He left then, driving as fast as he could manage, he made his way to the diner.

He walked in and couldn't help but notice that Amy was working again that day. He could tell that she recognized him. A frown graced her lips before she pulled on a cool professional mask and said she would seat him. Still, Connor could tell she was miffed that he hadn't called her.

Connor couldn't be bothered about hurting her feelings at the moment. Instead, his eyes locked on to the beautiful monster with long black hair and ivory skin seated in his and Murphy's booth.

He seated himself across from her, eyes never leaving her green orbs. A smile played at her lips as she sipped on her coffee. "It's nice to meet you finally, Connor. You know, it's hard to believe you and your brother are twins. I mean, you're both cute and all, but the only thing you share is your beautiful eye color," she chatted lightly.

Connor clenched his jaw. This woman had been doing God know what to his brother and here she was, talking to him like an old friend. He wanted so badly to reach across the booth and strangle her, to put a gun to her head and pull the trigger. But he couldn't. She was a woman...

"Not the talkative type, are you?" She asked playfully, "You're brother is the same way. No matter what we do, he just wont talk to me. But we'll soon fix that. Every man has a breaking point. Some are just more flexible than others before they snap."

"Who are ya and what the hell do ya want to talk to me about?" Connor snarled.

A pretty pout formed on the woman's lips. "Now, now. My name is Anna and what do I want? Sweetie, I just wanted to check up on you. To see how you're holding up."

"Where is he?" Connor ignored her question.

"Who? Oh! Your brother? Murphy is staying with us for a while. He and I have grown quite close over the past few days. You know, he's a fighter. He still won't scream for me, but we'll get there."

A deadly glint flashed in Connor's eyes. "Tell me where he is," he demanded. His tone was dark, dangerous.

"And what will you do if I don't?" she teased. She was totally relaxed, not a flicker of fear on her face.

"I'll kill ya."

"Oh, will you now? I highly doubt it," she sighed, crossing her legs. Her long fingernails played with the rim of her coffee mug.

"I've killed people before. Many people. What makes you so sure that I won't kill you?"

"You _have_ killed before. You've killed men. Never a woman. You Saints, that's your problem. You have rules. No women, no children... We've noticed."

"I think for ya, I'm willing to make an exception," Connor informed her. "Not many people have gone after my brother. Last fellas who tried... I killed them."

"That's understandable," Anna agreed as she leaned back against the booth. "But the way I see it, you have two choices, and they both work incredibly well for me."

"Alright, I'll play," Connor said. "How do ya figure that?"

"Well, if you do kill me, you kill your brother. If I don't come back to my boss, he'll destroy your brother. He'll kill him slowly, and it'll be painful. And when he's done, he'll leave you with a broken, bloody body on your doorstep."

All the air in the room was gone. Connor knew she was right. Right now, he couldn't kill this woman without resulting in Murphy dying a horrible death. And Connor knew that if Murphy died that he himself wouldn't want to survive it.

"Or, you can always go with the other option," Anna shrugged, examining her nails.

"And that would be?" Connor asked quietly. He felt sick to his stomach. This woman was cruel and calculating. What had she done to his brother for the past day if she could hurt Connor so bad just after a few minutes?

"You let me walk away, and your brother lives. We don't want to kill him, but we will if it becomes beneficial to us."

It was too much for Connor to take in, so he addressed the biggest question that he had. "Why don't ya wanna kill us? Wouldn't that've been easier than takin' a little spitfire like my brother? I mean, why not kill the Saints?"

"I'll admit, Murphy is the challenge of a lifetime. I've never met someone with more vinegar in their blood. Still, I have no doubt that I'll reach his breaking point. And as for why we don't want to kill you... well, that's more complex. Let's just say that killing the two of you would be more trouble than it would be worth."

Connor's lips thinned. "That would be my brother..." He had an idea. "Why don't we discuss maybe... a trade."

Anna smirked, a wicked gleam in her eyes like a hawk stalking her prey. "A trade? And what do you think that you have that you could bargain with?"

"Let Murph go and ya can take me. I'll walk outta here with ya right now," Connor offered. He prayed this would work. He would sacrifice himself in a moment if it could save Murphy. "I thought I was your target anyways."

"You were indeed the one we wanted to target, but not in the same way as Murphy. You see, we know that he's the baby brother. We know that you would do anything to protect him, such as offering yourself like now. But we don't want to hurt you, Connor. No, we want it to eat away at who you are that you couldn't stop us from _mutilating_ your twin. That you, for the first time in your life, are powerless."

She was right. She had found it. She had found Connor's weakness and she was playing all her cards perfectly. Connor glared at her and tried his best to look intimidating, even though he felt that he had died a little on the inside. "I'm warning ya now, m'gonna get my brother back. And I will end all o' you."

"You _will_ be getting Murphy back," Anna agreed. "But only when we're done destroying him. You may get Murphy MacManus back, but he won't be the same as he used to be."

"If you hurt him-"

"Honey, I already have."

Her phone which had been resting on the table buzzed and her attention was centered on that instead of the blazing glare that Connor was penning on her. "Time to go. It's been lovely making you hate yourself for being an incompetent brother, but it's time for you to make a choice, Connor. What are you going to do? Kill me and murder your brother, or let me go back to torturing him. The choice is yours, but make it quickly. I have things to do... people to destroy..."

Connor felt totally lost. If he let her go, he knew it would mean pain for Murphy. He hated knowing that no matter what he chose, it would have a negative effect on his sibling. Still, he _couldn't_ be responsible for his death.

"Go," he told her, beyond sick with himself for failing his twin.

She grinned and got up. Every so gently, like a breeze, her lips grazed his cheek in a ghostly kiss. He recoiled from her touch, but she brushed her lips against his ear, "I'll tell him you love him. It's obvious that you do. But will you love the broken shell of a person he'll be when I get through with him?"

With that, she walked away, calling over his shoulder, "If you follow me, I'll cut off his trigger finger. Then I'll send you Justice."

Connor stayed where he was as the monster left to continue torturing his brother. He let her walk away because he couldn't be the reason Murphy died. Even if that meant allowing him to suffer.

He bowed his head in prayer, needing his heavenly father's comfort. "Dear God, give me the strength to finish this. If I lose my brother, I will have nothing worth living for. If anything happens to him, myself and a few other people will be seeing you very soon, Lord. In nomini patri, et fili, spiritus sancti."


	6. Relief and Strength

_Chapter Five Summary__: Lorenzo meets Murphy. He interrogates him on where Connor has moved to, but Murphy refuses to talk. Connor has relocated to Dolly's house. He is unpacking when he is called by Anna. On the other end of the line, Murphy is tortured while Anna tells Connor to meet up with her. The two meet and Anna takes pleasure in mentally torturing Connor. The twin offers himself in a trade for his brother but she refuses, leaving him with the choice of killing her, resulting in Murphy's violent death, or allowing her to return to torture his brother. Connor painfully allows her to leave, Anna threatening to cut off Murphy's trigger finger if he follows._

_A/N__: Happy birthday to me! And happy Easter. Lol, so here' my present to you. I gotta say, this was probably the funnest chapter to write. SO much happens! Thank you to all my lovely reviewers._

_Warning__: Rated M. Tense situations, graphic violence, and torture/serious whump. So, all the things you expect from Boondocks._

* * *

**Brotherhood of Saints**

**_Relief and Strength_**

Murphy breathed. That was all he could do, and it was taking a toll on him.

His ribs ached from hits. He would put money on at least one being broken. It was partly what was making him have such a hard time breathing. He prayed that his lungs hadn't been punctured, but he couldn't really tell.

Cuts and lacerations littered his pale, exposed flesh. They stung, but he ignored it. He hadn't screamed when they sliced him open like a thanksgiving turkey, hadn't told them a thing about Connor, so he sure as hell wouldn't think about them while he had this blessed time alone.

A graveyard of bruises covered him. Headstones of grey, black and blue marked his body with aches and throbbing pains. But he paid them no mind.

His wrists were on fire. The rope, that stupid rope that bound him had dug mercilessly into his tender flesh as he'd fought for freedom. First it had rubbed at the tender skin, but by now, his wrists were raw and bloody, the tight binds digging into his flesh. But still, that wasn't what really bothered him.

The phone call had. It had driven him near crazy to hear his brother's voice, pained and scared. And what was worse, Murphy felt that _he_ had caused that emotion to fill his brother's tone. If he'd just stayed in the apartment, Connor wouldn't be so upset and he wouldn't be here...

_...The tape was peeled away from his eyes after the boss had stormed off. He had been frustrated that his captive wouldn't talk, no matter how deep the knife cut. No matter how much blood was spilt, Murphy wouldn't tell them where Connor was._

_To be honest, he didn't know. Sure, he had an idea where his twin had relocated to, but even if he knew, he wouldn't tell them._

_The woman, they'd called her Anna, was playing with his phone. A smirk played at her lips and it made Murphy sick to his stomach. She was planning something._

_Marco, the man in charge of making this an unpleasant experience for Murphy wiped the knife he'd been using on the Saint clean of blood. He caught Murphy glaring at him and grinned, flashing the silver blade in the light in a taunting manor._

_Murphy only glared back. He slumped back in his chair, body aching as he panted to breath._

_"Well, that was a thing and a half," Anna grumbled as she flipped through the contacts on Murphy's phone. "Not that it wasn't fun," she assured Murphy, as if trying to spare him the thought that his torture wasn't entertaining, "but why don't we see what big brother is up to?"_

_Murphy glared daggers at her and was about to protest when Marco came over and shoved the gag back in his mouth and tied it roughly in place behind head. Murphy growled at the man as best he could and swore through the cloth._

_Anna just grinned and hit the call button. She then put it on speaker and set it on the table. It rang once... twice..._

"What?"_ Connor barked, his tone short._

_Murphy didn't get a chance to take relief in his twin's strained voice. Instead, a fist met his jaw and he saw stars. With his skin sliced up, the blows were more painful... and they just kept coming. To his face... his ribs... It wouldn't stop._

_He couldn't help but groan when he felt his nose break._

"What the hell is this? Stop!"_ Connor snarled. Murphy wanted to tell him to calm down before he popped a gasket. He could just picture Connor's jaw clinching, twitching involuntarily. He'd probably bitten down all his fingernails by now, too._

_Marco paused from his beatings to listen in to the phone call. Anna leaned towards the phone, resting her crossed arms on the table, getting comfy. "We have a lot to talk about, Connor. Meet me at the Denny's you and your brother ate at two days ago. I'll be in the same booth you were. Come alone."_

_Murphy's spine stiffened. They knew about Denny's? How long had they been keeping tabs on them?_

_He wanted to tell Connor to stay the hell away. He didn't want his brother going anywhere with these people. Still, he knew that if he tried to say anything, the gag wouldn't permit him. The strangled sounds would just probably worry Connor that much more._

_"Marco," Anna called suddenly. She picked up a pack of cigarettes from the table and passed them to her little henchman, "offer our guest a cigarette."_

_Murphy knew it was coming. The man pulled one from the pack, pulled a lighter from his pocket, lit it, took a puff before gripping Murphy's hair and pressing it onto the sensitive skin of his neck._

_Murphy's jaw clenched, trying to stifle the moan that escaped him. He had to stay strong, or this would end up destroying his brother. He had to hold it all in. He swore at Marco, trying to rip away from his grasp as the heat scorched his skin..._

That had been a while ago. Murphy had prayed that Connor would do the smart thing for once in his life and be selfish and stay nice and safe in whatever place he was holed up in. Still he knew that stupid brother of his would obey these guys, no matter what. He would do anything to find Murphy, same as Murphy would do for Connor.

Murphy had no idea what would happen if Connor actually went to meet with that woman. Would he be ambushed? Would they capture him and bring him here to be tortured by his brother's side? Would they... would they kill him? Murphy shuddered at the thought, his aching body not appreciating the jarring motion.

He had to get out. The only way to stop Connor from getting hurt by trying to save him was to escape himself. Murphy pulled against the ropes with what was left of his diminishing strength. They tore at his wrists some more, but they wouldn't give.

Connor's stupid rope was going to be the death of him. How ironic.

Murphy couldn't help but think back fondly to the day he'd last seen his twin. The memory of Connor being so annoyed that all their weapons had actually been put away for once...

_"Where the hell are our guns, Murph?"_

_With a roll of his eyes, Murphy got up from his spot on the counter and went to a large black trunk in the corner of the room. He flipped the latches open, revealing all of their weapon arsenal neatly arranged inside._

_Connor groaned at the neatness but went to his brother's side and dug through the trunk. His eyes lit up as he pulled a coil of rope out and gazed at his twin in wonder._

_Murphy shrugged. "I know how ya are about your rope."_

_Connor grinned as he dug through and tossed Murphy his large knife. "There ya go, Rambo." Murphy smiled as he shoved the blade into his boot, hiding it._

Suddenly, Murphy remembered. When they'd come home that night, he'd fallen asleep on the couch with all of his clothes on. Though Marco had taken his guns a long time ago, Murphy couldn't help but wonder if by some grace of God his knife was with him.

Though his aching body protested, he wriggled as best he could, trying to force his hands further behind him towards his bound legs. He couldn't quite reach, no matter how hard he squirmed. His fingertips barley brushed the tips of his boot.

But it was enough. He could feel the slight protrusion of the handle of his Rambo knife. If he could just manage to reach it, he would be able to get to business.

He straitened himself out, trying to catch his breath. Bending about at awkward angles was hell on his ribs. Then, when he felt that the pain was bearable, he leaned towards his right side. His hands went farther down that way, being looped through the back of the chair. With some effort, he was able to pull the blade from his boot.

Carefully, Murphy began to saw at the binds around his wrists. He couldn't see what he was doing and managed to nick himself a few times, but he ignored it. The adrenaline rush at the thought of freedom spurred him on.

First thing he was gonna do when he got free was find his brother and give him a hug. Not one of those bro hugs with one arm and a pat on the shoulder, but a real hug. Then he was going to get himself a BigMac with a super sized Coke.

Suddenly, the rope snapped. His hands were free. He pulled the gag from his mouth, allowing it to hang around his neck. Murphy flexed his fingers, trying to work some feeling back into them. He had forgotten that they'd been cut off from circulation. When he felt the familiar pinpricks tingling in them, he went to work on freeing his legs.

Suddenly, Murphy was free. Nothing was holding him back. That is, except his own body. He struggled to stand up. His ribs screamed at him to just fall back down, and he had to hold back a yelp of pain, but Murphy knew that he had to get out. He had to get himself safe and take care of Connor. If Anna did something to him...

With that spurring him on, Murphy forced himself up. His knees threatened to give out as he teetered on shaky legs. He stumbled to the table in the room, trying his hardest to stay strong. He was worried that the blood loss was finally getting to him.

His vision swam and his head spun as he braced himself on the solid table. He huffed for air, counting each precious breath to clear his head.

That was when he saw what had been left on the table.

**B~D~S**

* * *

When his phone rang, his stomach twisted inside of him. What the hell could she want now? Hadn't she done enough for the day? Still, he knew he had to answer. What if she was checking to make sure he hadn't followed her?

He answered. "Look, I'm still at Denny's! Do not cut off his-"

_"Cut off my what?"_ a voice of an angel rang in Connor's ears.

Connor couldn't believe it. What the hell was going on? "Murph? Is that you?"

_"No, it's the Easter Bunny. Who da'hell do ya think tis?" _Murphy rasped into the phone. His voice was breathy, like he was having a hard time breathing.

Connor felt like he'd been smacked in the face. Was this some sick joke? He knew it couldn't be. Murphy was too stubborn to be forced to do something he didn't wanna do. So was his brother okay? Was he safe? How... how hurt was he?

So Connor was able to make himself ask one question that summed it all up. "What the hell is goin' on?"

_"When Anna and her little lacky in waiting left, I managed to get to my phone. I don't know how long I have, Con, so we gotta make this fast."_

"Are ya safe? Ya got out?"

_"Not exactly... m'still in the room they've kept me in, but m'gonna try to get out. m'gonna need someone to pick me up though."_

"Where are ya?" Connor asked, immediately taking action. His brother was with him, even if it was on the phone. The Saint was now able to surface, getting to business. He was up and in his car as soon as Murphy answered.

_"Some warehouse thing. They've got a shipment here. I think it's drugs. There's an address. Hold up,"_ Murphy said. Connor could hear his brother move over the line. His heart ached when he heard how much work it was taking Murphy to breath.

_"84524 Longview,"_ Murphy panted.

Connor started the car. He was so glad he and Murph kept guns in the trunk. "Murphy, m'on my way, alright? Ya try to get out of there. I'm comin' for ya."

_"Con, did ya talk to her? Are ya okay?"_

"You're the one that's been missing for three days and you're askin' me if _I'm_ okay?" Connor asked incredulously. "m'fine. What about you?"

_"I'm-"_

"No bull, Murph. The truth."

The line was quiet a moment. "_M_'_not doin' too good, Con. Lost a lot o' blood. Havin'... Havin' a hard time breathin'."_

Connor was going to kill every single one of them.

"Okay, Murph. Just be careful. M'comin' for ya and m'gonna take care of everythin'. Just... just stay safe, alright?"

_"Workin' on it. And, Con? I know you're worried but m'gonna be just fine. I trust ya."_

Just fine? Isn't that what Connor had told Rocco right before he-

"I know, Murph. Just stay on the phone with me."

_"I don't think I should. I need to be quiet if m'gonna try to leave."_

Connor's heart clinched. If this phone call ended, would he ever get to hear his twin's voice again?

"Murphy, I gotta tell ya something when I get there."

_"Tell me now."_

"I can't. It's gotta be in person."

Murphy sighed on the other end._ "Okay, Con. Look, m'gonna go now. I need to try to get outta here before they come back."_

Their time was up. Connor wanted to prolong this conversation, but he knew Murphy was right. He needed his whole attention on keeping himself safe.

Neither brother wanted to say goodbye. Goodbye was too permanent.

"Right then," Connor whispered, every part of him wanting to tell Murphy now. But it would have to wait. It had to be in person. "I'll... I'll see ya soon." _Stay alive._

_"Right. Soon,"_ Murphy agreed._ I will._

The call was ended. Connor felt like his heart was breaking. Still, he had a purpose. He had a mission. He had to stay focused. Murphy needed him now.

He drove like a bat out of hell through the streets of Boston as he dialed Smecker and told him where to meet him. Though he wanted to rush in for Murphy, he knew that he should have backup.

Smecker wasn't pleased that Connor had snuck off on his own to deal with these people. Though he knew Connor was skilled at killing, the man was a bit frazzled at the moment. Still the agent got his team together and met up with the Saint at the address.

Connor got there first. He parked, got out of his car, got his guns and searched the perimeter of the building. Nothing he saw pointed to Murphy. There was nothing to tell him where his brother was, and Connor had to admit, he was scared.

"Where are ya, Murph?" he asked to no one.

That was when the team rolled up.

"Connor, are you alright? Where is he?" Smecker asked.

"I wish I knew," Connor admitted. He wanted to flip out, but he didn't have that luxury. Murphy needed him to stay strong. They were going to find him today, no matter what. "When he called, he told me that he was still in the building. He must still be in there."

"So we just go in with no plan?" Dolly asked.

"I have a plan. The plan is to kill anythin' that isn't my brother," Connor growled darkly. "I'm done with these little games. M'not lettin' him stay in there any longer."

"Conner, you gotta understand that we're cops, man. We get that you can kill these guys, but we gotta go by the law..." Duffy pointed out.

Connor glared at his friend. "What if it was Dolly in there? Greenly? Hell, Smecker? What if it was your wife? Would ya stay an' 'go by the law' if it meant that any of them were gonna die if ya waited?"

None of them had an answer. So Connor pressed his issue. "This isn't just family. This is my brother! My _twin_! This is the person m'closest to in this whole world. I _cannot_ lose him! It's not an option! If you guys won't come with me, then I _will_ be going alone."

Smecker was about to protest when Connor's phone rang. Relief flooded Connor's bones when he saw it was Murphy calling. He was probably telling them all that he was holed up at some place down the street by now.

Connor answered and put it on speaker. "Murph, m'glad you ca-"

Crunch! A strangled sound that sounded like a swallowed scream filled the air.

_"Do you know what that is?"_ Anna asked on the other end of the line.

Connor couldn't breath. The air had all disappeared and his throat constricted to the point that forming words was impossible. The absolute worst images filled his mind, his brothers bleeding, broken form laying on the ground under the shadow of that monster...

_"That,"_ Anna continued,_ "would be the sound of me slowly breaking each and every one of your brother's fingers. That was the little one. By the end of this conversation, I'll be done with the whole hand."_

"No! Stop!" Connor pleaded.

Crunch! Another pained yelp reached Connor's ears.

_"You weren't supposed to show up. Just like little brother here wasn't supposed to pull a Houdini. My boss is very unhappy. That was his ring finger, by the way."_

Crunch! A whimper escaped the speaker of the phone.

_"You should've just stayed away... Poor Murphy wouldn't be feeling..."_

Crunch! A choked noise, a sob of agony that reached Connor's core.

_"The pain of me snapping his middle finger in half. But Connor, it's not all your fault. Murphy won't cooperate with me. All I want him to do is to tell you something. And it's the truth, too. But he won't. Let's see if I give him one last chance if he'll work with me," _Anna said playfully._ "Murphy, tell him. Tell you brother how much it hurts. Tell him to come save you. Go on."_

Connor waited. He waited for his brother's voice, anything to know that Murphy was still hanging in there. When he was met with silence, he knew that Murphy was still in control. No one could make Murphy do something Murphy didn't have a mind to do. No matter what.

Snap! A pained moan tore from his little brother's throat. It tore Connor apart.

_"Well, I guess he didn't really value his trigger finger. Oh well. That would be the left hand. Shall we start on the right?"_

"Enough!" Connor roared. "Enough! What do ya want from me?"

_"I want you. Alone. No cop friends. They stay outside. You come inside and you play my game. If you don't... well, ooh! That looks breakable..."_

"No! No more! I'll be comin' in. But I'll kill everyone I see," he warned.

A giggle caused the hair on the back on Connor's neck to raise. _"You can try. There's someone up here who'd like to have a word with you. Till then... Murphy, why don't you tell your brother to come save you? He doesn't have much time left."_

Finally, Connor heard it. His brother's voice, sounding agonized, yet determined. _"Stay away, Con! Don't come in here! There's-"_

Something cut Murphy off, a strangled sound coming out instead of words.

_"And that,"_ Anna seethed,_ "would be the sound of your brother hanging from the ceiling. I wonder how long he can hold his breath..."_


	7. Kisses and Fun

_Chapter Six Summary: Murphy is alone after being tortured and manages to escape using his knife. He calls Connor and tells him where he is before trying to get out of the building. Connor gets Smecker and the boys together before going after his brother. When they get to the warehouse, Connor gets another call from Murphy. Only it isn't Murphy. Anna has captured him again and breaks his fingers on the phone for Connor to hear when Murphy refuses to answer her. Murphy tries to warn Connor to not come in, but he is cut off as he's slowly strangled to death..._

_A/N: The good news is, I'm not dead! PLEASE DON"T HATE ME! As much as I LOVE writing this story and all of your wonderful reviews, school comes first. I've been pretty good about getting you chapters out, so please forgive me._

_Warning: Rated M. This chapter has intense scenes. I know there are many angst lovers reading this bad boy, but I scared myself a little writing this one. Just a warning. If you don't want any part of the intense violence, you should read to the first bar and skip until the next bar._

* * *

**Brotherhood of Saints**

**_Kisses and Fun_**

Lorenzo looked up from his desk when Anna came charging into his office.

"We have a problem," she admitted.

"What happened?"

"My little pet made an escape today. He managed to call his big brother and let him know where he was. Now Connor is on the way."

"And the other one? Did he escape?"

"Of course not," Anna said. "Don't you worry about him. I've got him on a leash now."

"Make sure he stays that way. When the Saint gets here, let me know. We're going to end all of this. If he won't back down, I'm killing them." Anna frowned. He noticed. "What?"

"Nothing," Anna sighed, unwilling to meet Lorenzo's eyes.

The man got up and went to her, cupping her face so that she had to look at him. "What is it?"

"The little Saint... I have to say, I'm not willing to part with him yet. I've grown attached to him. He's the first one that hasn't broken for me and it's just a shame that I won't get to change that."

"You're asking to keep him after we kill the other one?"

Anna nodded. "Just until he is completely mine. I want to destroy him. I just haven't had enough time."

Lorenzo nodded. He didn't really understand Anna's passion for pain. He knew that pain and suffering got her excited, but he never really grasped why. He just didn't comprehend how completely dominating another person to the point that they were no longer human made her happy. Still, he didn't care.

"He's all yours, my dear. Keep him as long as you'd like."

Anna grinned. "Thank you, Lorenzo."

With that, she left to go play with her pet.

**B~D~S**

* * *

A swift kick to the ribs was a rude awakening for Murphy. If his ribs hadn't been broken before, they were now. He could've sworn he heard one snap.

Murphy remembered how he'd managed to call Connor before being clocked over the head with something. Still, he knew that Connor would come for him, something Murphy wasn't sure he was happy about. He didn't want his brother to be in harm's way for his sake.

Another kick to the ribs sent Murphy into a coughing fit, his body instinctively trying to curl into itself in a protective motion. He found that he couldn't, though. He suddenly realized that not only were his wrists and ankles tied together, but a rope connected the two bound limbs behind his back in a painful hogtie. His whole body was held in a painful position, pulling his spine in a convex shape.

Murphy groaned as another hit pounded him. He spat out blood and closed his eyes, trying to block out the pain.

"I think that's enough for the moment," a voice said. Murphy stiffed when he heard her, his heart pounding a little faster in his chest. He could feel her standing over his battered body. He opened his eyes to glare defiantly up at her. She grinned. "Aww, look how cute you are, trying to be all macho."

Murphy would've rolled his eyes if the situation wasn't so deadly. Macho Murph. That was what Connor had called him ever since his first fist fight in grade school. The biggest kid had gotten annoyed at his smart mouth and had decided to shut him up. Though Murphy had taken a few good hits, he'd easily won the fight.

_"Well look at little Macho Murph here,"_ Connor had said affectionally as he'd patched up his brother's busted face and bloody knuckles. From then on, that was what Connor called him when he had to doctor up his brother's injuries over the years.

Anna picked up the knife from the table and progressed towards him. Murphy couldn't help but think that Connor was going to have a lot of work to do by the time that Anna was done.

The woman came closer to him and Murphy held her evil gaze, glaring with icy eyes up at her. She knelt on the ground next to him and reached out to touch him. He refused flinch when her fingertips brushed down the bruised side of his face. He would show no fear.

"Why won't you break for me, baby? Do you like pain? Is that it?"

She brought the knife out and Murphy braced himself for the tip to dig into his skin like it had a thousand times before. He knew that he could take anything that she could dish out.

Surprising him, she reached around him and cut the rope that had linked his bound limbs, leaving him with his hands and feet separately bound, and no longer in that strained position.

Before he could process what was going on, Anna had knocked him onto his back. His hands were penned under him, leaving him in a vulnerable position, everything exposed and unable to fight back. He _hated_ being helpless. He wasn't afraid though.

That is, not until Anna climbed on top of him. Her tight black skirt hiked up around her legs as she straddled his hips. Her hand flew to his throat, putting pressure onto his windpipe.

He tried to shake her off, but she brought her blade to hover around his face. Murphy stilled instantly, placing a cool gaze on her. Though she was a woman, she was evil. Murphy wanted nothing more than to watch the light fade from her round, innocent green eyes.

"I don't like it when my pets try to escape. Especially pets as fun as you," she explained calmly. As she spoke, she trailed the tip of the knife over his jaw, lightly enough to not break the skin.

"Thought you'd call your brother to come save you, huh?" She must've seen the fear in his eyes at the mention of his twin because she pressed on. "What? You really thought we wouldn't notice?"

He knew that they probably would. Still, he had hoped that it would slip their notice. Now that he knew they knew, all he do was wait for Connor to walk in on a bad situation. He knew his brother was tough and could take a hit. Still, a bullet to the head would it end it all for Connor.

She was getting annoyed at his silence. Her legs squeezed his battered sides as she put her face in his, sneering and whispering menacingly. "Too bad you had to go and do that. Now he'll come for you. And do you know what happens when he shows up?"

"Don't you dare touch him," Murphy snarled. She could do as she liked to him, but she sure as hell wouldn't hurt his brother.

Anna grinned playfully, overjoyed that she'd struck a nerve. She tapped him on on the nose teasingly and asked, "And just what are you going to do about it? In case you haven't noticed, precious, you're a little tied up at the moment."

"I'll kill you," Murphy snarled, trying to sit up.

She pinned him down again, the hand on his throat getting tighter. Her face was right in his and he could feel her sweet smelling breath on his face. He tried to look away from her, whipping his head side to side, but she grabbed his chin and yanked his eyes to the front.

"Nasty little mouth you have there. Not too pretty on the ears," Anna chided. "Let's see how it tastes." Still gripping his chin, she pressed her lips to his in a bruising, harsh kiss. Murphy froze, whole body going stiff. He really hadn't seen that coming. He tried to wrench away from her grasp, but she just held on tighter as she forced her mouth on his.

Murphy tried to fight back harder, needing air. But her free hand with the blade came by his face, stilling him. She broke away for` a moment to breath. "See?" she asked in a sigh, "Now that was hot as hell."

"Better get used to it, 'cause that's where you're goin' when Connor gets here."

Anna frowned. "We'll see about that," she said sweetly before assaulting him with her lips again.

Murphy squirmed under her grasp, trying everything to get away, but she was strong, and he was so weak from his injuries. She was determined. While one hand managed to keep a hold of his neck, the other began to explore his body. She trailed her hand down his chest before slipping it under his shirt. She could feel hard muscles covered by soft, taunt skin.

Murphy tried to buck her off with his hips, but her legs just clinched onto him tighter, causing him to wince as she jostled the broken ribs there. She placed light, almost gentle kisses on his jaw, her lips like that of a ghost's. "Are you ready to be mine?" she asked.

Her hand reached lower and tried to grasp at the buckle of his belt. Murphy knew what she was thinking, but he refused to let it happen. Her advances spurred him on, and though fighting back against her was agony on his battered body, he refused to let her do _that_ to him. He rolled to the side, spilling her onto the floor.

Anna hissed as her hand made contact with the sharp end of the forgotten blade. Blood began to pool from the slit in her flesh and Murphy could tell from the livid look in her eyes that he was going to pay for it.

He didn't care. He could take pain all day. But what she had tried... he couldn't allow it.

"Fine," she spat. "You like it rough? I'll give you rough." She got up off of the ground and clutched at her injured hand. "Marco!" she screamed, "get in here and take care of this," she ordered. "I'll be back in a moment, _precious_," she hissed while kicking him once in the side. She stormed out of the room, leaving Murphy bound and helpless on the ground as he waited for his torture to continue.

He couldn't clearly remember the next few minutes. It was really all just one blur of hell and fists. He just wanted to let himself black out, an escape to all of the pain. But he knew that he couldn't. Connor would be here soon and he had to stay awake in case his twin needed him.

"Get him up," Anna ordered as she came back into the room. Her hand was now bandaged. She entered from behind Murphy, so he couldn't see what she'd brought with her.

Murphy felt a rough hand grip his arm as Marco yanked him to his knees. He barely managed to stay conscious. He wanted to be able to fight back, but his body just wouldn't allow it. So he focused on staying awake. Because he had to hold on... Connor... Connor was coming... Connor would need him.

A slim body pressed into his back as arms wrapped around his shoulders in a twisted form of a hug. Her lips brushed against his ear, giving him chills as she spoke. "You've been a bad pet. Now you have to be punished."

Murphy knew he should keep his mouth shut, but his Irish pride just wouldn't let him. All he could do was fight back vocally, and he would. "M'not your pet," Murphy managed to slur. His tongue felt heavy and he could taste his own blood in his mouth.

"Oh, but you are now. And now you'll be a pet on a leash."

Something rough was slipped over his head when she pulled away from him. Murphy didn't know what was happening, but his stomach churned and he knew it was bad. But whatever it was, he could take it. Connor was coming.

And then the thing around his throat got tighter. It constricted until it closed off his windpipe. He could feel his body yank up from his knees, totally suspended by his neck. He tried desperately to get his bound feet under him so he could take the strain from his throat because he just couldn't _breath_.

But now he knew. It was a rough rope that scratched at the cigarette burns looped around his neck. A noose. And the other end had been looped around the rafters high above him so a person could pull on the other end to send him to a slow, strangled death.

The rope was given some slack, allowing him to stand and breath. Anna came to face him, an almost apologetic look on her face. "Poor thing. Looks like you might black out. We can't have that just yet."

She bobbed her head in the form of a nod once and suddenly, his hands were free. But only for a moment. Marco pulled his hands together in front of him so Anna could tie the end of another long rope around his bloody wrists. When that was done, the long end was tossed over the beam as well.

Marco pulled the rope taunt with a single unforgiving jerk, wrenching Murphy's hands above his head until he was suspended off the ground by his wrists. The toes of his boots flirted with the floor, but not enough that he could take any of the weight off of his _screaming_ shoulders. They felt like they were coming dislocated from their sockets as his body tore at itself.

The new position was killing him. His ribs ached, his muscles throbbed with strain, his wrists bled more as the rope dug in. Murphy couldn't ever remember feeling more pain ever before in his life. His body was one huge bloody bruise, a scream of agony. He bit down hard on his lip, holding back a pathetic whimper of pain.

He could take it. Because Connor was coming.

"There, now. That's better," Anna said in a perky tone, pleased with the situation.

Murphy could see black on the edge of his vision and he knew that he was going to lose this fight. Connor's smiling face appeared in his mind, blue eyes starring back at his twin. The thought of his brother instantly took away some of the pain because Connor was coming for him and he would kill every one of these people and then they both would be safe.

His head lulled as he struggled to stay awake, his chin falling heavily to his bloody chest. He was rudely awoken by a slap to the face. Anna's nails trailed through his flesh and left rivets of blood to pour from the scratch marks. He moaned in misery.

"Hey! We're not done yet," Anna informed him, holding his chin in her hand, trying to get him to focus on her. "We've still got to let big brother know how you're doing. And you're going to tell him everything. You tell him how much it hurts. Tell him."

His bleary mind knew what she was doing and managed to clear a little to deal with the situation. "No," he rasped. It was hell trying to catch his breath hanging like that. He wouldn't do it. If Connor was coming, his brother needed to be focused, not worrying about him. He knew they were trying to mess with Connor's head and he wouldn't let them. He would protect him with his last breath.

Anna chuckled. "I'm not asking. I'm telling you."

"And m'tellin' ya to go screw yourself," Murphy shot back.

Anna frowned and took Murphy's phone from Marco, who then went to stand next to the tortured Saint. Anna pressed the button to speaker call and Connor answered quickly.

_"Murph, I'm glad you ca-"_

Marco reached up in one quick movement without any warning and snapped Murphy's little finger.

Murphy did his best to swallow the scream.

**B~D~S**

* * *

Connor was running like a thing possessed into the building. He had barked an order for the policemen to stay outside while he charged inside, the screams of his twin chasing after him.

As he journeyed deeper into the building, he kept his word to Anna and killed anyone that he saw. The Saint had finally taken over now. He killed without mercy as he searched the building for his brother.

His mind was racing. Dark thoughts swam. How was he going to find Murphy? Would his brother be okay? What is he going to find when he finally got there? Would Murphy be able to survive this? Would he _want_ to?

He growled at himself. Murphy was a fighter. No matter how bad the damage was, he would hang in there and heal. Connor would make sure of it. He would be there for him every second of the day. He would make sure his brother made it out of this, just as soon as he killed every last person who had the _audacity_ to _dare_ to touch his brother.

Finally, Connor came to a door. He knew. He just knew. Murphy was in there. He had to be. He didn't know how he knew, but he could just feel it. He could feel his brother, his twin, his agony radiating from behind that door.

Connor loaded his weapons. He didn't know how many people he had killed in the last few minutes, but he was more than willing to kill some more. It would be his upmost pleasure.

He was going to kill them _all_.

He took a deep breath and kicked down the door that separated him from his flesh and blood. The air was ripped from him lungs. What he saw broke his heart.

His brother, the most precious thing in the world, his twin, hung by bleeding wrists from the ceiling. His body was bruised, broken and battered. Deep gashes ran all over his torso and not an inch of him had been spared. It was torture _looking_ at him, let alone suffering what he must've gone through.

His eyes zeroed in on the noose that was tight around his brother's neck. The other end was held in the hands of a man who would soon meet his end if it was the last thing Connor did.

She was there. That woman had a blade pressed to Murphy's throat. Connor had no doubt that she would use it.

But though all of these things made his blood boil, the thing that bothered Connor the most and made him want to fall to his knees in anguish were those eyes. Murphy's eyes were fixed on him. So much was spoken in the look those eyes pinned on Connor. They screamed his pain, all he had suffered. They held unshed tears that Murphy refused to let fall. And they held trust. Trust that no matter what happened, Murphy knew that Connor would take care of him.

"Con!" Murphy managed to gasp before the rope was pulled tighter around his neck, cutting him off.

"Get away from my brother," Connor ordered. He didn't yell. He didn't shout. His voice was that deadly calm that a person uses before they lose all self control.

Anna grinned. "Or you could just put down your guns and he won't die," she said calmly.

Connor was done. He was past the point of playing games with these people. He had no idea the true existent of what they'd done to Murphy, but he wasn't going to let it go on any further.

This is the end.

He stepped closer to the three and the blade drew a thin red line of blood from Murphy's flesh. Connor's heart beat faster when his brother winced at the pain. How much blood had he lost over the past few days? How much had he suffered?

"There are two options here," Connor said, echoing Anna's speech to him at Denny's. "Let my brother go now and I'll kill you quickly. Or I'll just kill you anyways, but I'll give you a little taste of hell before I do it so that you know how the rest of eternity will be for you."

Anna seemed to think about it for a moment. Marco watched her, waiting like a good dog for his master's command. His hands flexed around the rope twined through his fingers.

Murphy only held trusting eyes on his brother.

"Oh, Connor," Anna sighed, "It didn't have to be this way. My boss just wanted you two out of the way. If you'd just stayed away, we could've sent your brother back to you when I was finished with him. But you came, and he just won't break for me... So I guess he isn't any fun anymore."

And with that, she rammed the blade into Murphy's chest.


	8. Victims and Prayers

_Chapter Seven Summary: Anna decides that she wants to keep Murphy, no matter what. She goes to him while Marco beats him and she tries to take advantage of him. But Murphy fights back, preventing her. However, he is strung up and his fingers are broken over the phone with Connor on the line. Connor rushes into the building to save his brother. But when he finds Murphy, Anna claims that everything is ruined and Murphy is no longer fun before stabbing him..._

_A/N__: So... I guess I went a little heavy on the cliff hanger, huh? Well, you're really going to hate me by the end of this one. Thank you to all my reviews, follows, and favs. But here's the really sad news. This has been my favorite fanfiction I've ever written, and I've written a lot! But all good stories must come to an end. And though this is not the final chapter, the next one will be. So enjoy and here is your dosage of angst._

_Warning_: _Rated M. Tense situations, graphic violence, death and serious whump. So, all the things you expect from Boondocks._

* * *

**Brotherhood of Saints**

**_Victims and Prayers_**

Smecker viewed the crime scene with a weary eye. He'd seen a lot of horrible things in his life. He'd seen the unspeakable things humans could do to other humans. He'd seen the pain that others caused people for their own pleasure. He'd seen brutal murders by people who seemed less than human.

This was worse because it had happened to someone that he knew. Someone that he cared about. And if he counted the mental anguish that had been placed on Connor, two someone's.

"So what happened here, Smecker?" the police chief asked him as they walked into the large warehouse room.

Oh, Smecker didn't have to deduce anything about the scene. He had seen it all first hand. Well, most of it at least. When Connor had screamed, they'd rushed on in after him. Then they'd found the dead people.

Dolly and Duffy were there, watching with silence. Their eyes were wide with horror as they waited to see how Smecker would handle the situation.

Because none of them wanted to talk about what they'd seen.

"Well, as you have been informed, this was all done by the Italian gang called El Diablos. They're known for their work with drug cartels and... well, as you can see, their cruelty," Smecker explained. He was going to have to do this as impersonally as possible.

He walked through the room. Usually, he wouldn't have such a hard time surrounded by the blood and gore, but this wasn't just some random victim that had been taken and tortured. This had been _Murphy_.

He wished he could send Greenly out for some desperately needed coffee, but the detective was busy. He was with Connor, trying to provide support. Well, he was with what was left of Connor.

Smecker went to a chair that had blood smeared over it. He rested a gloved hand on the back. "Mur... the _victim_ was taken three days ago. He was brought here, where he was bound to this chair."

"We didn't know the purpose as to why," Smecker continued, "seeing as we can't ask the victim, but he was tortured for several hours. For the sake of privacy, I won't go into details how."

"We need to file a full report. I'm afraid you'll have to," the chief demanded.

Smecker huffed. Easy for him to say. _He_ didn't know these boys. These kids. All the good that they'd done at great sacrifice to themselves.

The agent sighed before forging on. "After examining the victim, we found cuts from a sharp blade. Bowie knife, deep enough to hurt, shallow enough to not kill. Cigarette burns were found all over him. His fingers on his left hand had been systematically broken. Wrists were mangled. Broken bones from periodic beatings... The list goes on and on. If you wanna know any more, you can look it up," he finished, voice clipped.

Smecker moved on before he could be asked anything else about the disturbing topic. "The victim managed to escape at some point. He used his phone to call his brother."

"Why would he call his brother and not the police?" the chief asked.

Smecker shrugged. Though he knew exactly why, he couldn't exactly tell the chief. "They're twins. They have funky twin mojo."

The chief shook his head and surveyed the gory room. "And the brother showed up and killed all those people on the way in here? And the ones in this room?" he asked incredulously, "By himself?"

Again, it was simply summed up to, "They're twins."

Chief swore. "He was pissed, wasn't he?"

"It was his brother. Of course he was."

"So the victim escaped," the chief prompted.

"Yes, but he didn't get far. He was caught again and... and hung from the ceiling by his wrists. Then he was stabbed," Smecker mumbled.

The chief nodded solemnly. "And the two bodies in this area... they look..."

"Like they went through a blender," Smecker supplied for him.

"Exactly. What happened here? That man's face is... And the other one... This was all the brother?"

"Yes, they were killed in self defense. We will not be pressing charges on Connor MacManus."

**B~D~S**

* * *

He wasn't Connor MacManus.

He looked like Connor MacManus. He had fair, short, spiked hair. He had a muscular, lean body that matched Connor's description. A bullet wound scar on his leg. Scars around his wrists. Tattoos of a celtic cross on his arm, the Madonna on his neck, Veritas inked onto his trigger finger. He even had those blue eyes, a storm on the sea.

But he lacked the very thing that made Connor MacManus. He lacked his twin brother, Murphy. He lacked him because he'd just been killed in front of his eyes.

Without Murphy, he was no longer Connor MacManus. He was no longer a Saint. He was a fallen angel with no purpose in life but revenge for the agony his twin had suffered, for the blood of his brother that had been spilt.

Murphy's eyes connected with his one last time as a scream as tore from Murphy's throat. Connor could see that through he was fighting, Murphy was too weak to hold on any longer.

He was too late to save his brother, his best friend.

"Con..." Murphy wheezed before his head fell to his chest.

A scream found its way from Connor's lungs as well. Only this wasn't the sound of a man dying. This was the sound of a man with nothing to live for, a man who had lost everything. A man who was broken. It was a scream of pain and rage that can never truly be described.

Connor saw red. Never in his whole life had he felt such a rage. Not when the Russians came to take Murphy away. Not when Papa Joe shot Rocco. This had been Murphy. Murphy... his whole world, his twin, was gone. Dead. Never coming back. And now he would never get a chance to tell him.

He had failed.

Connor wasn't afraid to die. He always been before, afraid of how he would leave Murphy alone. He never in his wildest dreams once considered that it would be Murphy to go before him. He could've never prepared for the utter loss... the emptiness that consumed his whole soul.

Though Connor wasn't afraid to die, he wasn't suicidal. Murphy was dead, had been taken from him, but he still had one reason to continue to exist. Just one. He still had to kill these monsters.

With a roar, Connor put a bullet in the man's leg. He would deal with him soon enough. For the moment, his sights were set on the monster who had ripped the very air from his brother's lungs.

He launched himself at her, murder in his heart. His mind had snapped and he had no fear for his life. He had nothing left to lose.

He took her to the ground, pinning her with his body. She tried to squirm out from under him, but she couldn't. Not only was he stronger, but he was feeding off of a dark rage that was consuming him. She stilled under him after a while and their eyes met.

And though in that moment Connor couldn't even remember who he was, he could remember someone. A voice that wasn't his own spoke to him._ "No women... no children..." _he father said.

Connor tried to shake away the voice. This woman was no innocent. She had taken Murphy. Tortured him. Taken his life. Connor moved to break her neck when another voice held him in place. His own and his brother's.

_"Destroy that which is evil..."_

_"... So that which is good may flourish."_

He couldn't do this. Anna was evil, yes, and though he wanted to kill her, he couldn't. He had to stick to his morals. It is what kept him from becoming a dark creature of nothing. He had to let what good there was in himself flourish. Murphy would be angry if Connor damaged himself, his very soul, on his account.

Connor could hear footsteps. Someone called his name. He could remember it now. He remembered that he was still a Saint. Still devoted to the will of his God. He wanted to kill this woman so badly that it ached. He did. But he couldn't. It would be wrong. But he could kill the men. And he would.

"Connor!" Dolly yelled as he, Smecker and Greenly came in behind him.

They were by his side instantly and Connor stood up. Greenly yanked her up and cuffed her hands, all while she grinned wildly at Connor. "I told you. You have rules. Even after all I did to your brother, you still couldn't do it."

Connor turned from her. She was nonexistent at the moment. His eyes fell on his brother's limp, hanging form, blood pouring from his body. He was still. Too still. Murphy was _never_ still. He wanted to go cut him down, to hold him in his arms, but he would lose it if he touched him.

A hand weighed on his shoulder. He turned as Greenly led Anna out to be arrested. Dolly just looked on over Connor at Murphy in horror while Smecker focused only on Connor. "What do you want us to do?"

Connor thought about it. What did he want? He wanted his brother to live. To breath again. To make fun of him for his love of action movies and rope. To go drinking with again. To comfort. He wanted Murphy back.

A whimper caught his attention. He turned away from the agent and his eyes latched onto the man who he'd shot. He saw Connor's gaze on him and he glared. Connor only gave him a wicked, evil grin that would've scared Satan himself.

"I want ya to wait outside a minute."

And they did as asked. They knew what was going to happen to Marco, but they left it up to Connor.

When they were in the other room, Connor went over to the man and stepped on the bloody chunk of leg that contained the bullet wound. He screamed shrilly and Connor only pressed harder. "Did ya hurt my brother? Did ya burn him? Hurt him while I listened? M'assumin' you're Marco."

"It... it was the boss! He wanted it done! He wanted to break you... both of you," Marco cried out.

Connor stomped on the wound, grinding down on it. Another cry tore from Marco's lips. "Where's your boss?" he demanded.

"In the next room! His office!"

Connor pulled his gun, took aim, fired, and ended Marco's life with a bullet to the face. It wouldn't be an open casket.

He then cast another glance towards his brother's direction, but he just couldn't bear to look at the broken body of his brother.

"Smecker! Dolly!" he called while putting another bullet into the dead body at his feet. His friends were there instantly. "I have one more thing to take care of," Connor explained. "Can ya... can ya get him down? I can't... I..."

"We'll do it," Dolly said. "We really shouldn't move the... the body... but it... it's Murphy."

Connor couldn't listen to that. So he moved to the door in the back. A bullet whizzed by his head when he entered the door, but he returned fire, hitting the Italian man in the shoulder.

The man's weapon dropped to the floor, out of his reach. Connor took him in. Nice suit. Well built. Gold watch. Cold eyes that held the gaze of a man who knew it was his end. Oh yes, this was the man who'd screwed up his life. And now he would take _his_.

"You must be Connor," the man said in a deep voice, an accent present.

"Aye. And you're about to die."

The boss nodded. Connor didn't ask for his name. He didn't care for it. The dead had no use for names.

"They say that before you kill a man, the Saints would say a prayer for him."

Connor nodded once. "My brother and I would. But he's not here anymore."

The man nodded back. "You see, I'm also a devout Catholic. I was wondering if you would pray for me before you..."

For a reply, Connor walked around him before kicking his legs out from under him, putting the man down to the ground on his knees. He felt so alone, standing behind him, gun gripped in his Veritas hand when no Aequitas was there to join him. Alone, he was cold hard truth. There was no justice to be found. Only truth and revenge.

He placed the barrel of the weapon to the back of the boss' head. "No, I won't," he said calmly before pulling the trigger.

The body hit the floor just as Smecker yelled his name.

Connor flew to the other room at hearing the desperate tone to the agent's voice. What he saw had him stopping dead in his tracks.

The policemen were standing there, looking totally at a loss as the hanging body... _moved_. Murphy's eyes flickered open just barely. A sound like a strangled breath wheezed from Connor's lungs as the impossible happened.

Murphy was still alive.

He was by his side in a second. He didn't know what to do. Should he touch him, or would it only hurt him more? He knew Murphy was in pain. He was still bleeding heavily, blade still protruding from his chest. Connor wanted to comfort him, but didn't know how.

"C-C-Con?" Murphy rasped, eyes rolling, not able to focus on anything.

"M'here, Murphy," Connor reacted instantly to his twin's voice. He moved closer to him, his hand reaching up on instinct to gently brush his fingers against Murphy's bruised face, thumb stroking his bloody cheek as Murphy leaned into the touch of his brother. He had to know he wasn't crazy and that this was real. He had to know he really was there.

"It... It hurts, Con..."

Connor's heart broke. "Please! Help me get him down!" he cried desperately. Smecker and Dolly held Murphy's weight while Connor used his pocket knife to saw away at the ropes holding Murphy up. When they were cut, they gently lowered him to the floor. Murphy groaned in relief as the strain was taken off his throbbing shoulders and gentle hands held him. Connor didn't waste a second ripping the noose off Murphy's neck. He then started to rub Murphy's hands, trying to get some feeling back in them where the bond had cut off circulation.

"Dolly, call an ambulance," Smecker commanded while Connor's attention moved toward's Murphy's head, which laid in Connor's lap. Gently, afraid to touch him, he ran his finger's through the mess of knots that was Murphy's blood-caked hair.

Murphy's eyes threatened to close, but Connor gently shook him to keep him awake. "Don't ya dare! Don't ya dare close your eyes, Murph! M'not losin' ya! Not now... Not after everythin'! We're going to get ya fixed up and you'll be just fine. You'll see," Connor whispered, voice breaking.

Murphy coughed, blood coming up. His body convulsed and his back arched painfully from the floor. "Connor?" he gasped.

"Yes, Murph?"

"What... what did ya... wanna tell me? On the... phone?"

Tears managed to stream down Connor's face as he leaned down to kiss top of his brother's head. "Don't worry about it right now. We can talk about it later. Just... Just don't talk, okay?"

"Don't... Dunno if there... will be a... later, Con..." His words were mere breaths. He was going fast. His trembling hand, Aequitas, came and found his brother's, trying to take comfort in his closeness.

"Don't ya talk like that!" Connor snapped. "Ya can beat this. You're my Macho Murph. You'll be up and drivin' me nutty playing house wife in no time," Connor tried to tease.

Murphy tried to laugh, but the small smile didn't quite meet his pain filled eyes. "Right... I knew... I knew you'd come. Always take care... of me..."

Connor felt the tears pour now. Here was his brother, dying in front of him, saying he had trusted him. If Connor had been faster... better... if he'd kept his word, this would've never happened. And yet here was Murphy, using his precious breath to tell him he still trusted him.

Connor couldn't take it.

"M'here, Murph. M'not goin' anywhere, so don't ya leave me, ya hear?"

But Murphy was fading. He couldn't take anymore. But he had to tell him... had to let Connor know before he closed his eyes, because he knew he wouldn't be able to open them again once he did.

"You... best brother... I could ask for..."

And then his hand went slack in Connor's. The blue eyes closed for a final time, the pain leaving his face as he faded. A shallow breath tore from his busted lips. His heart had stopped pounding the strong Irish blood through his veins.

And Connor wept as the sirens of the ambulance rang in his ears while he clutched onto his brother's cold hand.


	9. Truth and Justice

_Chapter Eight Summary: The crime scene is evaluated by Smecker. Before that, Connor snaps when Murphy is stabbed and tries to kill Anna. But because she's a woman, he finds that he can't do it. While she's arrested, Connor kills Marco and Lorenzo. He rushes to Smecker when the agent yelled for him to find that Murphy was still clinging to life. Connor tries to get Murphy to hold on while the medics come, but Murphy says his goodbyes when his heart stops..._

_A/N: This is the final chapter of Brotherhood of Saints. I want to thank everyone who has read, reviewed, followed and, faved. You guys made this story for me. I want to say sorry for the hellish cliffhangers and thank you for not wanting to kill me. I hope you've enjoyed reading as much as I've enjoyed writing this story. Thank you all very much._

* * *

**Brotherhood of Saints**

**_Truth and Justice_**

Everything was a blur.

Connor clung to Murphy's body as hot, angry tears rolled down his face. He didn't care that Smecker could see him break down or that he could hear the sobs he choked out. All he cared about was lying on the dirty floor, bleeding and broken in his arms.

"Murphy! No!" Connor howled. He didn't know the first thing about first aid or anything like that, but he'd seen enough crime shows to know the general idea of CPR.

He felt for a pulse. There was none. Checked for breath. The result was the same.

Connor began to push all his weight on his brother's bloody chest. He pushed and pushed until his arms hurt before he breathed into Murphy's unmoving mouth, forcing air into his brother's still lungs.

"C'mon, Murph! Fight for me! Fight!" he growled before pushing again. He continued to battle for his twin's life, all the while never getting a response.

"Murphy, no! Don't ya dare leave me! Ya can't leave me!" Connor cried while pounding repetitively on his brother's bloody chest. Though he got no reponse, he didn't give up. He _couldn't_ give up. He had promised he wouldn't let anything happen...

EMT's rushed into the room. Dolly and Duffy had to wrench Connor away from Murphy's body so the medics could attempt to revive him. When the paddle boards came out and they tried to shock the life back into Murphy, the cops could feel Connor trembling in their firm grasps at the sight of his brother's limp body twitching from the shocks.

When one medic checked for a pulse and found none, Connor fell to his knees, head bowed and hands clasped in prayer. He begged God to let his brother live. _"Take me if one of us has to go,"_ he thought. _"Just let him live... please... He's stronger than me... He could take losing me."_

"I've got a pulse and breath!" an EMT announced loudly to the room, as if an answer to Connor's prayers. Connor thanked The Lord and got up to go check on Murphy, but was again held back by his friends with only his faith to hold him together.

"He needs surgery, now!" one EMT said. "Get me a gurney!" One was wheeled in within seconds and the medics quickly loaded Murphy's bruised and bloody body onto it. They wheeled him out towards the back of an ambulance, Connor following closely on their heels.

"I'm going with you," he informed a woman EMT.

"Sir, he's in no con-"

"He's my brother, and m'going with him," Connor said in a matter-of-fact way that she couldn't argue with.

The lady knew she'd lost so she just sighed, nodded and allowed him to climb in after his brother. The door closed and the ambulance flew.

**B~D~S**

* * *

Murphy's heart stopped two more times before reaching the hospital. Connor felt as if his had stopped, too. Every time Murphy was electrocuted back to life, Connor wanted to stop them. He knew the charges saved Murphy, but it just looked like more injury was being inflicted on his twin each time his back arched away from the gurney as shocks convulsed through his battered body.

He was immediately rushed to surgery upon arrival. Connor stayed with him as long as he could until he was stopped by a nurse handing him a clipboard of papers asking things about Murphy's health. He was sat down in a stiff waiting area where he numbly filled out the information.

After the paperwork was finished, Connor asked to see his brother of for any news about his condition. Each time, he was denied, but he continued to pester the staff throughout the night.

A few hours later, Dolly, Duffy, Greenly, and Smecker turned up. Greenly noticed the hollow look in Connor's eyes and went to get him a hot cup of coffee. Connor took it but didn't drink. His stomach churned at the very thought of doing anything other than worrying about Murphy.

"Any word?" Smecker asked with a grim tone to his voice.

Connor shook his head, shoulders slumped in defeat. "They won't tell me a bleedin' thing."

Smecker frowned. "I'll be back in a bit," he told them before walking with a purpose towards the nurse desk across the room. He was too far away to hear, but Connor noticed that the agent flashed the nurse his FBI badge. The nurse frowned but nodded and Smecker returned to the guys. "Okay, they're going to let me see Murphy."

Connor was up on his feet instantly. "M'coming, too."

"No, Connor," Smecker said in an authoritative tone. "I know you want to see him, and you will, but right now, you need to wait here. You need to get yourself under control."

Connor glared, but sat back down. He understood what the older man was saying, but his heart yearned to find his brother in this cold, unfeeling place. He craved the closeness he'd missed the past three days that he knew Murphy would be missing, too. What if he woke up alone and Connor wasn't there?

Smecker told the cops to take care of Connor before he left with a nurse to find Murphy. Duffy told them about what it looked like had happened at the warehouse because Connor needed to know. He needed to know what Murphy was going to survive from. Greenly made frequent snack runs and would ask in on Murphy at the desk every few minutes. Dolly just sat by Connor. He didn't say anything. He didn't have to. The friendly, comforting hand on Connor's shoulder said it all.

"I couldn't do it," Connor said after a while, breaking his silence.

"Do what?" Duffy asked.

"Killer her. The woman hurt my brother... tortured him... but I couldn't kill her. I wanted to. I really did, but I just couldn't."

"We'll make her pay, Connor," Duffy tried to reason. "She won't ever be able to hurt you or Murphy ever again."

"She might have done enough damage the first time for that to not matter to Murphy. And I still couldn't kill her."

"I think... well, I know I'm not in on your guy's freaky twin mojo, but I think Murphy would be glad you didn't kill her," Greenly said hesitantly. Connor fixed him with eyes of steel, but Greenly continued. "Sure, I think he'd want her to pay for what she did, and she will in jail, but I think he would be glad that you didn't kill her, because if you did, you would've lost a bit of what makes you... well, you."

All three men stared at Greenly. Connor finally spoke up. "I think that's the smartest thing you've ever said."

Greenly smiled. "How about this? As soon as Murphy heals up and gets out of here, we'll all go out for a drink to celebrate."

"Amen to that," Dolly agreed.

"I'm in," Duffy shrugged.

Connor just nodded. He wanted to be hopeful about the situation but... there had been so much blood...

"Connor," Smecker's voice called. Connor got up immediately and went to the agent.

"How is he? Is he awake? Is he in pain?"

"He's just gotten out of surgery. He hasn't woken up yet, and no, he's on so many drugs right now that I don't think he would feel it if the building fell down on top of us," Smecker informed the four anxious looking men. He knew they all cared about Murphy.

"Can I see him?"

"Do you think you should?"

Connor wanted to snap at him. He wanted to tell him that he knew what he should and shouldn't be doing, but he didn't, because he understood. Smecker wanted to make sure he could take the stress of seeing Murphy, if he could stay calm. And because Connor was able to recognize this, he knew that he was able to handle it.

"I have to," Connor said simply. Because the separation from his brother was _killing_ him.

Smecker nodded and looked towards Dolly Duffy and Greenly. "They'll only let two in at a time," Smecker told them.

"You and Connor go ahead in," Dolly addressed Smecker. Though they all loved Murphy, Connor needed to see his brother and Smecker was the one who could deal with it if Connor needed something solid to ground him.

Duffy and Greenly nodded in agreement. Connor offered them all a weak smile as Smecker placed a hand on his shoulder and led him to the nurses' desk. "We're going to see Murphy MacManus," he informed her, once again showing his badge. The woman nodded once and Connor could feel his heart begin to pound faster in excitement.

When they got to Murphy's door, Smecker stopped Connor before heading in. "He's bad, Connor. He's had a rough few days and it's not pretty. Just be prepared, okay?"

Connor's jaw clinched but he nodded. He knew that Murphy was in rough shape, but he still had to see him now. He couldn't wait any longer. Though he knew Murphy was still unconscious, he could feel his brother's presence calling to him.

He opened the door and his heart pounded in his chest.

A hospital bed was pushed up against the wall. Murphy was laid out on it, looking frail and child-like, something Connor really wasn't used to. Murphy was always up and moving, looking vibrant and full of life. The person in the hospital bed looked like they could break at any moment.

Connor took a breath to calm his racing heart and moved deeper into the room. He went to his brother's side and looked down on his battered body. His wounds had been dressed and bandaged. They ran up and down his arms, around his head, and covered his chest under that thin hospital gown.

Tubes and wires covered every inch of his brother. An oxygen mask was placed over Murphy's face, helping him breath. Needles, Murphy hates needles, poked in here and there on him, giving him pain relief medicine and other things. Monitors here, something flashing there, it was just a big mess.

Connor wanted to sit on the bed next to his brother, to feel skin pressed against skin so that he would be reassured of Murphy actually being there, but he was too afraid that he would only manage to hurt him more. Instead, he pulled a chair to the bedside and sat in that, refraining from touching his brother, though his fingers twitched to do so.

Smecker must have noticed what Connor wanted. "It's okay if you want to hold his hand," he encouraged the twin.

Slowly, unsure of himself, Connor reached out and brushed his fingertips down Murphy's fingers. He traced the tattoo on his trigger finger before trusting himself enough to thread his fingers through Murphy's, ignoring the wires and machinery.

Smecker nodded, as if pleased. "I'm going to let the boys know how he's doing and we need to check in on the case. Are you okay here on your own?" he asked.

Connor nodded. He wouldn't be alone. Murphy would be here. And eventually, he would wake up. He was going to, because he had to.

Smecker left and Connor relaxed a little. Now, he could be with his brother with no one to watch them.

"Murphy?" he asked quietly. He waited a moment, as if expecting a response, though he didn't get one.

"Murphy, m'so sorry. M'so very sorry, my brother. I wish this hadn't happened. I'd have traded placed with ya in a second if I could've... M'so sorry, Murphy..."

Gently as he could, Connor reached out and rested his free hand over his brother's heart. He knew it was still pumping, according to the upticks on the monitor behind him, but he needed to feel for himself. He needed to wash away the horrible feeling of that steady rhythm not being there that he'd felt earlier.

"Don't ya dare leave me again, alright? Ya don't get to do that to me. I 'bout lost my mind. Ya can't... ya can't leave me ever again, Murphy, ya hear?"

Connor about jumped out of his skin when he felt the fingers curled around his twitch.

And though Murphy didn't wake up that night, he knew that his brother could hear him. He just knew because Murphy could always hear him, the same as he could always hear Murphy. And Connor knew that everything was going to be okay.

**B~D~S**

* * *

"Mr. MacManus, really, maybe you should go home to rest," the nurse suggested.

Connor just stretched and out in the hospital chair that sat next to his brother's bed. He'd stayed by Murphy's side for the past two days, praying the entire time that he would wake up. "I told ya already, lass. M'not goin' home till he goes with me," Connor informed her for the umpteenth time.

The nurse smiled at his dedication and left the room. Now awake, Connor reached out for his twin's hand and stroked the skin there gently with his thumb. "Mornin', Murph. It'd be a better one if you'd get your lazy bones up."

Nothing happened.

Connor tried to not feel discouraged. "It's alright, though. Take all the time ya need. Just be as quick as ya can about it, alright? I know Ma wants to be hearin' from ya. I didn't... didn't tell her about this whole mess. I figured ya could if ya wanted to."

This was the routine. Connor would wake up to an injured Murphy and would spend the whole day talking about everything and nothing. He knew Murphy could hear him because every once and a while, his hand would twitch or his eyes would flutter like he was going to wake up, but he never did.

Still, Connor wanted Murphy to know he was there, that he wasn't alone and that he was safe.

It was noon and Connor was telling Murphy about how Smecker and the boys had been checking in on him periodically. "They're worried bout ya, Murph. We all are. So could ya just... please wake up, Murphy... Please...?" Connor knew he sounded weak begging but it was for Murphy, so he didn't care.

But Murphy heard him. And this time, when the eyes fluttered, they opened just enough to show Murphy's bright baby blues. Connor almost didn't believe what he was seeing, but he quickly got over it. Murphy was awake and needed him.

"Connor?" Murphy croaked, voice sounding odd under the oxygen mask.

Connor didn't care that there were tears of joy rolling down his face, a huge grin finding it's place there. "M'here, Murph. M'here."

A nurse was called and all the medical procedures were taken care of. It was decided that Murphy didn't need the mask anymore. Though it's removal made the weak picture Connor had seen of his brother that first night in the hospital go away for the most part, Murphy still looked very much like a child with his dark hair ruffled and his wide eyes watching everything.

Murphy hates hospitals.

"Connor," Murphy said after they'd been alone for a while, "what was it that you'd wanted to tell me? It better be important," he teased.

Connor nodded, throat getting tight. "Tis very important. I just wanted to say that... That I love ya, Murph. You're the most important thing to me in the world. I'd do anything for ya and I just... I can't lose ya..."

Murphy seemed to both enjoy the admission and feel awkward with the display of affection. "I love ya, too, Con. And m'still here, so quit your bellyaching, right? I'll be right as rain in a few days," he assured.

Connor didn't really believe him. Burn marks, lacerations on his arms, chest, back, cuts on his face, broken fingers and ribs, deep bruises and a stab wound didn't just go away in a few days, even for a fast healer like Murphy. And Connor didn't even want to consider the mental damage that may have been done.

Murphy saw the uncertainty in his brother's eyes. "Connor, really. It looks worse than it really is," Murphy assured.

Connor glared at him. "Then it must've been bleedin' awful because you look like hell."

Murphy played with his hospital gown, trying to ignore his need for a cigarette. "It wasn't the highlight of my life, but m'still here. M'not goin' anywhere."

Connor caught the sad note to Murphy's voice. "Do ya... do ya need to talk about it? What happened, that is?"

Murphy worried at his thumb for a second or two, looking for all the world like a lost child. He seemed to be debating to open up to Connor about what had happened, but in the end decided that he could talk about it.

"I s'pose they told ya about my condition," he said slowly. He knew Connor needed to know what had happened to him, but he was going to keep it as light as he could. He knew that guilt was going to eat away at Connor either way, but not knowing would be worse.

"Aye. Burns, cuts, broken bones... not a pretty picture, Murph."

Murphy didn't know where to start, so he figured he would were Connor could relate to. "They called ya. Anna wanted to meet with ya. I wanted to tell ya to not go, but I couldn't."

Connor nodded. "I know. I saw the picture," he said, referring to text he'd got of Murphy bound and gagged.

His twin nodded, wincing a little at the motion. "Yeah. Well, then they just wanted to know where you'd moved to. I didn't know for sure. Knew it had to be with Dolly, Duffy or Greenly. Still, I wouldn't have told 'em even if I did know."

Connor frowned. "I know ya wouldn't." Murphy would never endanger him, even if it meant getting hurt himself. Connor wanted to be mad about it, but he knew he would've done the exact same thing.

"I got out and called ya. Tried to leave the building but I got caught. I woke up back inside. They called ya again and... well, ya know the rest," Murphy finished lamely.

"Aye, I do," Connor shivered at the memory of Murphy's pain screaming at him from the other end of the phone as they'd snapped his fingers. "I couldn't... I couldn't kill her. I killed every man in that buildin', but I couldn't kill Anna. She's a woman... We promised to not do that, so..."

"Good," Murphy said with certainty. "Don't want ya goin' against your word for any reason." Murphy looked at his left hand. The fingers had been splinted and they would heal soon enough. They throbbed a little, but the pain medication had taken most of the edge off.

"M'so sorry that this happened to ya, Murphy," Connor said in a broken whisper, head hung low in shame. "Even after I promised that I'd keep ya safe. M'sorry I failed ya..."

Murphy's jaw hung open a little. "Con, come 'ere a second," he told his brother. Connor did as asked, coming close enough for Murphy to smack him upside the head.

He yelped more in surprise than anything. "The hell, Murph?"

"Shut the hell up 'bout all of that failure bull. Ya came and got me. I'm still here, right? So just get over it, Con. You're stuck with me."

Connor smiled because he knew Murphy didn't blame him, even though he still blamed himself. The fact that all was alright between them was all Connor wanted.

The days passed and Murphy healed quickly as he had expected. He'd called his Ma and apologized for missing her call, with the excuse of being a little tied up. Soon enough, he was moved to a normal hospital room and was able to get up and walk around every once and while.

On the day he was to be let out, he decided to have his first smoke break. Connor went with him, staying close to Murphy's side in case he faltered and needed a hand. But Murphy was strong and stubborn, two traits that kept him swaying on his feet, limping his way down the hall.

They made it to a smoking area and Murphy sank onto a bench. Connor pulled out a pack and sat down next to him. He lit it up and passed it to his brother, ancient tradition between them. When Murphy didn't take it, Connor looked over to him and noticed the fear in his eyes.

That's when he understood that Murphy was thinking he was going to get burned by it. As quickly as he could, Connor put the lit one in between his own lips and passed Murphy the unlit one with his lighter. Murphy took it without a word, though his fingers trembled. It took him a few tries to light it and Connor couldn't help but feel the need to apologies for his brother's suffering.

"Murph, I'm-"

"Say you're sorry and I'll deck ya right here and now."

Connor smiled softly. "M'glad you're here, Murph."

"Me, too, Connor. Me too."

Connor took Murphy's hand, Truth and Justice holding onto each other like a lifeline. Because you couldn't have one without the other, and Truth and Justice weren't going anywhere.

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_A/N: And that is the end. Of this story, that is. Here's my question... how much do you want a sequel? Because I have one in mind if that's what you want..._


	10. Demons of Saints

_A/N__: Hello you wonderful people, you! So you asked for it. Here is a teaser for the sequel to Brotherhood of Saints. I do hope that you enjoy Demons of Saints just as much as the first, but I'm warning you now, I think this one may be even more emotional and angsty than the first! It's up and posted now, but I just wanted to let you all know. Kay, buh-bye now!_

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**Demons of Saints**

_**Fights and Flames**_

**By Candra**

It had been ten years since the day that Murphy's heart had stopped beating. And though he'd been brought back and so much had happened to both MacManus brother over that span of time, he sometimes couldn't help but remember those three days of hell that he'd experienced.

Though his wounds had healed and his scars had faded, there were days that something would remind him of those three days that he'd been separated from his twin. The three days that'd he'd been tortured mercilessly. The three days that had almost cost him his life.

Maybe it would be the click of a lighter when he wasn't prepared for it. Sometimes, he'd rub at the sore muscles in his neck and would feel the round scars from the cigarette burns there. Other days, he'd be by his brother's side, sweeping the floors of the Hoag prison, and he'd bend down to pick some trash from the floor. His sleeve would sometimes ride up a little and expose the pale white rings that encircled his wrists. Or maybe he'd just notice that the little finger on his left hand hadn't quite healed right and was slightly crooked, the same as one of his ribs.

He knew Connor noticed. Connor always noticed. He'd seen him in the mornings when they'd wake up in their cell for the day, watching his slightly younger twin as Murphy quickly yanked a shirt over his head, hiding the slightly protruding rib and the scar from the healed stab wound from his brother's watchful eyes. Though he was grateful that he and Connor shared a cell instead of being separated, he hated the sad, almost guilty look that would haunt the light in his twin's blue eyes...


End file.
